The Price
by Teresa Martin
Summary: Continues immediately after the conclusion of the Season Finale. Thanks to raichy95 for photo. I have decided to add as appendices the one-shots know as Spinning Loose Threads to keep the stories together.
1. Prologue

The Price

Prologue

"Because magic, is power!"

"Power?" Belle repeated.

"Yes," Rumpelstilskin answered, his eyes that of a fanatic. "Without it, evil wins."

"What?" she backed away from the well in horror, "it's the magic that's evil!"

"Not when I control it," he replied taking a step towards her. Belle responded by backing away further. "Don't be afraid."

Yet everything about him elicited fear. The man she loved had in a moment disappeared before her very eyes and, for the second time in her life, become the Beast. She continued to retreat.

He held out a hand. "Come, Belle." There was a note of growing urgency about his voice. "We need to get to my house. Now!"

Belle looked around and saw the clouds covering everything about them.

"Belle, please," his eyes were desperate now. This gave her pause. Of one thing she was certain on this terrible morning: Rumpelstilskin never showed urgency without a reason. A VERY good reason.

She reached out and grabbed his hand. They ran into town.

Rumpelstilskin rushed Belle into his house, slamming the door. Immediately he cast a security spell on his estate.

He then ran inside where Belle stood in the dark. With a wave of his hand, he flicked on the lights, and lit a fire. Then he took Belle to an armchair and sat her down.

"You're chilled to the bone." He observed. "I'll get you some tea."

Belle's teeth were chattering and she nodded. He came back with a blanket.

"Anything else you need?" She shook her head.

They sipped the tea in a silence broken only by Belle. "You still want power." Belle's voice was shaking, not with love, but a fury from which he instinctively turned away.

"After everything!" she accused. "After telling me you loved me."

"I do love you," Rumpelstilskin replied. "I also told you that I would protect you. I swear from this night on, nobody will ever harm you again." He took her hand and pressed it to his check. He whispered, "I told you that there would be time. Well, here it is. I'm here. To love you. To be with you. "

"Will you kiss me?" Belle asked, challenging him.

He looked straight into her eyes, his voice deep and firm, "No."

Belle shook her head, angry tears trickling down her cheeks.

"Belle, you have my love," he assured her. "I will be true to you forever."

"No. I will not be with you on those terms," she answered. "I will not be yours, or you mine as long as you choose magic. It was a lovely dream," her voice cracked, "about an hour. More than most people get. Goodbye!" She jumped up from the chair and bolted for the door.

Rumpel stilskin ran after, grabbing her from behind. "No!" he hollered. "You cannot leave." He began to weep. "You can't." He spun her around and pulled her to him, hands moving up into her hair as he brought her head to his shoulders. She began to cry with him. Crying all the tears, the bitterness, the love.

It took quite a while for both of them to calm down. When they had, and were seated on the couch, he said, "In any case, it is not safe for you to leave. We don't know what is happening out there. There are a lot of angry people in Storybrooke now, and we don't know what Regina is doing. We must wait."

"If there is danger from her, it's because she has magic," Belle told him. "And you gave it to her."

Rumpelstilskin sighed. "Yes, because I wanted something else more. And I can't do it without power."

"You can be with me without power," Belle insisted. Then fear enveloped her as a thought came to her. "You always say that magic comes with a price. What will yours be?"

"I don't know, and I don't care!" He took her head between his hands, and leaned in, inches away from her face. "I won't lose you again. I won't!" His voice rose and Belle felt as though ice had been injected into her veins. She had seen that look on him before, the night he threw her into the dungeon and proceeded to break almost everything in his castle. The look that made her fear he would either kill her, or himself.

Belle felt herself as on a precipice, needing to talk him out of jumping off of it.

She put her hand over his, and pulled it down. Then she gently took the other, until both were entrapped within hers. "But you don't need to do this," she insisted gently, as one speaks to a wounded animal, afraid of its bite if one moves too suddenly. "I don't want your protection if it comes with such a horrible price." Her blue eyes looked into his, pleading with him to see it her way.

At that, his head drooped, a man defeated.

When his head rose again, his eyes were closed, tears leaking through. He then opened them and looked at her.

"Oh, my Belle, my Belle," he moaned, his visage now completely draped in sorrow. "It is not for you that I want my power."


	2. Chapter 1

A.N. Thank you for all the reviews and for those following the story. I hope you enjoy.

Chapter One

Belle awakened slowly. There was a strong smell, pleasant and familiar. She lay about on the luxurious bed, and fluffy pillows, wanting to stay in that twilight between sleep and awakening. But the curiosity got the better of her. She opened her eyes, and sat up in astonishment.

The entire room was covered with roses—hundreds of them all over the room. There were even rose vines curled around the canopy, and rose petals sprinkled all about her.

She picked up a few, inhaled their perfume and smiled. One thing that could be said of Rumpelstilskin is that he never did anything by halves. She lay back on the bed letting the petals scatter, the sunlight reflecting on them as though they were magic.

Magic.

Of course it was magic. Giving her a beautiful awakening was a gift of love. But magic was far more than this. She knew, as did all,that it came with a horrible price. As a child, she and her servant would sometimes stay up late and tell tales about the imp Rumpelstilskin and his deals. The reveal of the horrible price would end the story. One tale had kept her up all night with the candles lit. When she finally could not force herself to stay awake, she dreamed that she made a deal with Rumpelstilskin and learned that her kitten, Princess, was the price. She had sat up, with the wails of Princess still ringing in her ears, to find her father sitting next to her.

"I heard you crying," he had said.

Belle had, after some coaxing, confessed that she and her servant were frightening each other with stories of Rumpelstilskin.

Her father had dried her tears telling her that most of those stories were tall tales to scare children on dark nights, and that she was to think nothing of it. Anyways, there was nothing to fear from the darkness so long as she never invited it in.

Belle then asked what would happen if she did.

"Just like all darkness, it would begin with a good intention, a desperation, and a good cause. And you would say it will only be just this once. But then something else would be needed, then another and another until you were trapped. The soul would become filled with a darkness so addictive, that you couldn't live without it, and you would have nothing left but a cursed soul." Her father was staring past Belle, as though remembering something. He then had turned to her with a smile, "But it is always your choice. And you are a good girl who knows to stay away from magic!"

Belle had nodded at her father and said how she was comforted and was ready to go to sleep, though she most certainly was not. Her father's 'assurances' had guaranteed nearly a year of lit candles all night, hours of lost sleep, and an emphatic avoidance of all magic tales.

The impression was so strong that she was terrified to the bone when her father in desperation sent for Rumpelstilskin. She had reminded him of what he had told her about the price to be paid. He had only looked sadly at her and said the price of not calling for him was too great. She had begun to protest, when he cut her off declaring, "I would do anything to protect you! I'm your father!"

When Belle and her father had that conversation, she could never have imagined that she would fall in love with Rumpelstilskin and would be in a room of roses given to her as a gift from him!

She also would not have foreseen that Rumpelstilskin was at one time a father, driven to dark power in order to protect his son, a mere boy, from being slaughtered on the battlefield. Belle thought she had no more tears left in her after she had tried to leave him. She was wrong. Every last drop of emotion was drained from her as he told about what he did to save his boy and the other children by putting the war to an end. Then the terrible cost of that magic was that in saving his son, he lost him. Yet even then, that brave boy sought out the Blue Fairy and was willing to travel through time and space to get his father away from the curse. And then Rumpelstilskin let him go, dropped into a vortex.

So now she knew everything. Why he wanted his power more than her, why he couldn't believe someone could love him.

And she completely understood, knowing that if she had children and someone was going to send them to certain death, she too might have made the choice and stolen what power she could to keep them safe. She may have even spent the decades Rumpelstilskin did to find a way into the World Without Magic in order to bring magic into that world to gain the power needed. Anything to find her children.

She might have done all of it. Perhaps even more.

She could almost forgive now the addiction Rumpelstilskin had to that power. She had seen something like it in her village. Belle had a friend that was cursed, not with magic, but a terrible need for drink. This childhood friend, Aimee, had married young and lost three babies before they were born. After the third, Belle saw and smelled how much she drank. When Belle asked her why, she said it made her forget her babies. Soon enough she stopped talking about her losses, but only about making sure her house was well stocked with drinks. Her husband begged for years to make her stop, always accepting the false hope when his wife would sometimes swear never to drink again. Belle's friendship with Aimee had ended when Belle, in a burst of determination to be done with it, went to her cottage in the village and tried to take every bottle from the house. Aimee had howled like a wild animal, and slapped Belle repeatedly. She would have continued if her husband hadn't come in and pulled her off. She screamed and screamed as Belle backed away. Then she saw something that had terrified her more: Aimee's husband sat down on the floor and cried, and cried. Belle fled from the house and never went back. All that misery just from a bottle of spirits.

What then from a curse?

Rumpelstilskin could not give up his magic, even when his son had begged him to. He could no more stop using power than Aimee could stop drinking.

Then Rumpelstilskin had told her that he would use the magic not only to find his son, but that he could protect those left in Storybrooke from the witch.

Belle had wiped her eyes and sighed. It seemed that everytime she felt that Rumpelstilskin was truly lost, that his power was all he loved, he revealed such good reasons for his actions. He could almost convince her he was right.

He had touched her under the chin and asked her if she understood. And, gods help her, she did. She told him so, and once again they were clinging to each other in an embrace and crying. He kept repeating that he loved her as she professed it back again and again. For she did love him. At that moment she knew that if their roles were reversed, if he had tried to leave as she had, she might have done as he, perhaps done something desperate as he nearly did.

She would stay with him, forever. Wasn't that her original deal with him? And she would do everything to help him find Baelfire, his son.

Belle couldn't remember quite how she ended up in her room. He must have carried her up at some time, easy for him now that his limp was gone.

She lay back on the petals again, and inhaled. She would take the perfume and the beauty, and the love. Today. She lay back in bed, secure, safe, and really only needing another day's sleep to recover from the emotional highs and lows of the previous day and night.

&8&8&

Belle had been awake nearly an hour before she heard a timid knock on her door.

"Belle?" Rumpelstilskin's voice sounded hesitant.

"I'm awake," Belle called.

A short silence, "May I come in?"

Belle shook her head, smiling to herself. "Of course you can," she replied. "it's your house."

The door slowly opened.

Rumpelstilskin peeked in, looking as timid as he had when he gave her the rose in the Dark Castle.

"I'm decent, Rumpelstilskin, come in!" she laughed.

He walked in and handed her a rose.

"Why, a rose!" Belle exclaimed, "I was thinking that I just didn't have enough of them!"

She inhaled its scent while he looked at her, drinking in every feature, before his face turned mischievous, and he quipped "I felt you might be running low on your supply." His look was so much like the Rumpelstilskin of the Enchanted Forrest that she almost expected to see his gold skin, and, well, bad teeth.

"Don't just stand there," Belle scolded. "We're over all that now, pretending we don't want to be together." She scooted over and after a brief pause, he sat on the bed, and propped a pillow behind his head, scattering more rose petals. Belle leaned on her side and laughed. "My nanny used to always say that life wasn't a bed of roses. I guess you've proved her wrong!" It felt so good to laugh.

"I take it then you like this," he spread out his arms indicating the flowers.

Belle grinned, "Very much. And thank you."

Rumpelstilskin looked down at her, and smiled too. Instinctively she moved her head up to give him a kiss, as did he, but then he froze and turned away. Belle's face fell too.

He cleared his throat, "Perhaps this will not be as easy as I first believed."

Belle looked down, and felt tears prick her eyes. Just moments ago they were almost as it had been, and then it was gone. She looked up when he took her head and pulled it to his forehead. She knew what he was doing. This was the closest thing he could think of as a kiss. She let her hand open and touched his cheek. Then they both broke away and avoided each other's gaze for a minute.

"I am still so tired," Belle decided to change the subject.

"For shame!" Rumpellstilskin chided. "Tired? After sleeping for nearly fifteen hours!" he pointed his finger in her face in jesting accusation.

"Fifteen?" she lay back. It had rather been an eventful day. She had begun it in a locked cell, then had run through every spectrum of emotion from the moment she walked into his shop. They were crying one moment, then jesting and flirting like a newlywed couple the next. It was then that Belle saw her life in Storybrooke with Rumpelstilskin. Constant shifting of emotions, actions . . .desires.

He flicked his wrist and a tray appeared, heaping with bacon eggs, coffee, and cream.

"Eat up dearie," he said as he sprung up. "Oh, I forgot." Another flick, and a rose appeared on the tray. "I knew something was missing from the room."

Belle rolled her eyes.

He began to leave when Belle stopped him putting her hand on his arm. "What has happened. . . . outside?" she slowly asked. A darkness came over his eyes, but only for a moment. His expression changed and he said lightly, "Quite a lot, actually. It has been a very busy day. I 've had a lot of unexpected visitors."

Belle arched her eyebrows inquiring. "Nothing for you to worry about," he insisted and touched her face—the kiss goodbye? He walked to the door.

"What do the visitors want?" Belle asked.

He stopped with his hand on the doorknob. "Why, what you have, dearie," he answered. "My protection."

Belle sat up straighter. "Why do they need protection?" she asked, dreading his answer.

"Seems things are getting rather nasty in town," Rumpelstilskin replied before he left the room and shut the door.


	3. Chapter 2

A.N. Thank you again for the comments and for following. I'm glad people are enjoying the story.

Chapter Two

Belle turned the tap and jumped back when steaming water poured out of it. She watched the tub began to fill, entranced as steam hit her face. She sat there for a minute or so, enjoying the sensation. When her eyes opened, she noticed several bottles on the side: 'Bubble Bath.' Some potion could create bubbles in a bath? She screwed off the cap of the bottle and inhaled: roses. She looked to the bottle, 'rose scent' was written in smaller letters on the bottle. She smiled to herself. Rumpelstilskin really had thought of everything. He must have arranged it as she slept. Slowly she tipped the bottle and beheld the thick liquid slowly pour into the tub. To her delight, bubbles instantly appeared. She looked at them in awe. Was this magic? Or natural in this world? She could not distinguish between the two, for, unlike the other inhabitants of Storybrooke, her fake memories were of being an insane woman living in a cell her whole life. That had been her only experience of this world.

Everything had just stood still for years and years, until one night, months ago, with a jolt, she felt time move. The stillness went away, but then she was only greeted with darkness as the ticking seconds of time nearly drove her mad. She had first sought escape in sleep, but there was no relief. Nightmares came. Horrific, unspeakable, demonic dreams: she made a decision to 'return'—she knew not where, to somebody she did not know. All compelled her to go back to him at any cost, force him, beg, scream like a banshee, do anything so that he would allow her to stay with him. He merely released a shrill giggle and opened his mouth to show sharp teeth snarling like an animal as he chased her away. "I don't want you," he repeated over and over. She ran and ran until she reached a gate and slammed it behind her, only to hear shrieks of joy. "She's gone! She's gone forever!" He jumped up and down like an imp and clapped his hands in glee. Belle then opened her mouth and howled, tearing out her hair in great clumps. Screaming and screaming and screaming.

That was the best of the dreams.

The others ended with him doing to her what her father and her whole village thought he had.

Locked away. _She did this to you_, Rumpelstilskin had said. She. The Queen. What would he do to the witch now that he knew what she had inflicted on Belle? Belle had never been naïve and knew of what Rumpelstilskin was capable. He would take revenge on the Queen and it would be merciless.

And Belle was not sure that she wanted to stop him.

She shook her head. These were thoughts for another time. After she had rested, slept, and had time to think. She gingerly put a toe in the bath, which she withdrew with a hiss. She looked at the tap and saw 'C.' For cold? She turned the knob and ice-cold water streamed out. Satisfied that the mix was complete, she stepped in and luxuriated in the bath. Dirt appeared to melt away from her as she took a bright cake of soap and scrubbed. Running her fingers through her hair convinced her of a greater need than relaxation. She began to lather the pink cake of soap in her hair when she spotted a note sitting on top of the towels which awaited her: _Use Conditioner, R. _Belle frowned and looked around, until she spotted a bottle with the correct label. She lathered it on her hair, and let it set as the instructions said. Taking a large toothed comb-had Rumpelstilskin been to the town market while she slept?—she straightened the snarls out of her hair.

Belle must have stayed in the tub for an hour, adding hot water as it cooled. She had never known such luxury and she was raised a princess! Reluctantly she exited, being careful not to slip on the floor. She picked up the towels and wrapped the largest around her. The smaller one she used to rub her now clean and tidy hair.

With a sigh she opened the door and stepped out, only to gasp when she saw a stranger in the room.

"Please, my lady," a woman held out a large robe. Automatically Belle allowed her to put it on her and seat her by the vanity.

The lady was very tall with blond, short cropped hair. She pulled out a contraption, more combs, and scissors.

"No!" Belle protested, as she began to cut.

"Just the split ends, if you please," the woman replied.

Belle nodded and finally asked the question she should have asked when she first saw this stranger in her room. "Who are you?"

"My name is Rapunzel," the lady replied. "I was a hairdresser here in Storybrooke. Rumpelstilskin procured my services for you."

"Procured?" Belle felt her heart sink.

Rapunzel sighed and began to cut, "Just a few minutes ago. My husband insisted we make a deal with him to keep me away from what was happening in town."

"And you were the price?" Belle asked, more than a little disconcerted.

"It was generous. Rumpelstilskin said I would be safe so long as I would agree to be your maid."

Belle's head turned, "Maid?"

Rapunzel automatically turned Belle's head so that it was facing forward again. "Please don't move."

"I'm sorry," Belle apologized, "but I don't want a maid."

"That's not my business," she replied. "I agreed to be at your beck and call, to give you anything you wanted." She finished cutting, then a roar filled Belle's ears as something blew hot air all about her. Belle turned in alarm, but the lady gently turned her head again with the air of a professional. Belle allowed her to finish.

"Up or down?" Rapunzel asked.

"Em. . . Up?"

"Half or full?"

Belle thought about her hair as she liked to wear it at the Dark Castle, and told Rapunzel how to do it.

"And what would you like to wear?"

"You choose," Belle replied. "Rapunzel," the lady turned with an outfit in her hands, "What is happening in town?"

Rapunzel avoided her eyes and walked over to Belle, with a casual cotton tunic and pants.

"Please?" Belle said.

Rapunzel nodded and began. "After the purple smoke swarmed through town, something happened at the Mayor's, excuse me, the Queen's mansion."

"What was it?" Belle asked.

"I'm not certain," was the reply. "But shouts of the Queen doing magic went about, and there was some panic . . . I didn't see much. My husband grabbed me and we raced into Granny's. That was where we met King James and Queen Snow White. He took control rather quickly, and we pledged fealty to him. We spent the night there, hearing some occasional . . . disturbances. Then in the morning the King led us out. We saw the Evil Queen's Mansion swirling with black smoke."

"The dark power," Belle said.

Rapunzel nodded. "Before I could see more, my husband took me by the arm and led me the other way saying we were going to see Rumpelstilskin." She gave a wry smile, "So now I'm here, at your service," she bowed her head.

"Please," Belle asked, "you don't need to . . . " Act afraid?

"You are the lady of Rumpelstilskin," Rapunzel stated, answering what Belle did not say.

The impact of what she would seem to all in Storybrooke hit Belle. The last thing that occurred to her was that people would react to her the same way they did to Rumpelstilskin. That they would be afraid of her. And why should they not? What did they know of her?

"Thank you," Belle said. "I'll get dressed on my own." Rapunzel nodded, and left her.

…

Belle cautiously walked down the stairs, and saw Rumpelstilskin take a signed paper and gracefully bid a young family goodbye.

He saw Belle, smiled, and locked the door. "Business is over for the day." He walked to Belle and took her hand, "Take a turn in the garden?"

Belle walked outside with him and was surprised to see how late it was. The Sun was setting and the crickets were beginning to chirp.

He led her to a bench, and they both sat down. His arm drew her to him, and she laid her head on his shoulder. Suddenly all was well. She was sitting with the man she loved in a garden on a beautiful night.

"I see Rapunzel is doing her work admirably," he said as he leaned down to inhale the scent from her hair, but, Belle noticed, careful to not let his lips touch her head.

"Rapunzel. About her. I don't need a maid!" She sat up and looked at him. "I do my own work. The 'lady's maid,' well, that was my old life. I don't want that."

Rumpelstilskin shrugged, "The deal was to do whatever you wanted. If what you want is for her to go away, then by all means, release her."

"Really?" Belle's forehead wrinkled. She had expected some dissent.

As though reading her mind, he took both her hands in his and said, "I will give you whatever you want, Belle. Anything to make you happy."

Anything but a kiss.

Belle knew better than to say that.

"With the way business is going, I may need a secretary," he remarked.

"Will we be here that long?" Belle asked. "I thought we would leave to seek Baelfire as soon as possible."

"Yes, well, circumstances have changed."

"Circumstances?" Belle fought to keep her voice even.

"You! In case you do not recall, you came back into my life yesterday." His hand tightened on hers. "That changes things."

Belle frowned, "But why?"

"Why?" Rumpelstilskin asked. "I have some . . . new work to do concerning a certain former mayor of Storybrooke."

The revenge. She shivered. "Can't we deal with her after we find your son?"

He shook his head, "No, I'm afraid, my dear, that what must be done needs to be done soon. Magic here," he looked to the stars now beginning to appear, "can be, let's just say, unpredictable. There is much to do to ensure that I don't leave her a loophole. I had not anticipated your return when I made my plans."

Unpredictable.

He touched her face, "Don't worry, love. I have made certain that I have more power than she can ever yield. A drop of my True Love potion brought Emma, who took the harpy down hours after she got a clue. I used a whole flask yesterday. Yes, it was to bring back the magic. I needed that to leave town and find Bae. But it was also to ensure that those who have true love will prevail in the Final Battle. Regina will never have true love."

"So the good people will survive?" Belle asked, relieved.

He gave a half smirk that stopped her heart for a second. The Beast slipped into his eyes for a moment, "I didn't say that, dearie. I just said they would prevail."

Belle looked down at their hands, still entwined to gather the courage to ask the next question, "And us?"

Rumpelstilskin touched her face, "No worries there. We will always be together."

He held her eyes and leaned in, his forehead touching hers, their faces close, everything touching except their lips.

"Always," he whispered.

Belle let him hold her and they sat on that bench for hours it seemed, only shifting now and then to get closer.

"I love you," she whispered. He replied by tightening his arms around her. Belle had never felt so completely at peace and all doubts, for this night at least, evaporated.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Rumpelstilskin and Belle came in from the garden just as the clock struck eight. Rapunzel was waiting for them with dinner on the table. Belle went to pull her aside as Rumpelstilskin walked past them to climb the stairs. "Won't be a minute," he called, "just fetching something from my study."

Belle faced her new and soon-to-be ex-servant. How does one say this? "I . . ." she began hesitantly, "release you."

"Release me?" Rapunzel asked. "I don't understand."

"You do not have to serve me," Belle explained, feeling mortified. "You can go back home."

Rapunzel frowned. "But here there is protection. That was the promise." She turned her head as Rumpelstilskin came back down the stairs and strode to her with a quick pace. Rapunzel stood a little straighter, "You said you would give me protection."

"Indeed I did," Rumpelstilskin replied, "and I never go back on my word." He pulled out a handgun and slapped it into Rapunzel's astonished hands. "Best protection there is, dearie. That is, unless you have magic!" He gestured as he spoke and led her to the door, which he opened and slammed shut behind her. Then he turned to Belle. "Dinner!"

…

Rumpelstilskin opened up his prized port, as Belle got out the appropriate glasses.

"She'll be fine," he assured her for the tenth time.

Belle looked askance at him.

"She will," Rumpelstilskin insisted. The eleventh time. "She'll go back to her pretty hubby and find a cozy room in Charming's mansion."

"And if the Queen attacks?" Belle asked.

"My dear, Regina is one who would far rather scheme and posture than actually get something done. This is a woman who spent twenty-eight years plotting how to ruin Snow White's life with some tiresome plot to get her accused of murder and given the death penalty when the same result could have been achieved by running over the little thing with her car! I assure you, the worst Regina has done is make some melodramatic speeches about the rightful ruler of Storybrooke being back with magic: blah, blah, blah, blah, blah!" His hand moved puppet style with each repetition.

"You're certain?"

He looked straight in her eyes. "Yes."

"Alright, then." Belle proceeded to pour two, not one, thimble-fills, with a mischievous look at Rumpelstilskin, who raised his eyebrows.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to get me drunk and take horrible advantage of me!"

Belle giggled, "Hush." She blushed scarlet. "Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I was the one who wanted to get drunk? I believe I've earned it," she said. As they sat on the couch, his arm came around her, pulling her against his side. They sipped the sweet wine by the fireside.

"You like?" he asked.

"Mmmm," Belle purred. "I developed a taste for it at your castle." She took another sip, closing her eyes and snuggling into his shoulder.

"At the castle," his forehead wrinkled. "I don't remember drinking port with you at the castle."

"Oh, you didn't," she shrugged. "I just sampled every now and then."

"Sampled?"

"You never said I couldn't," Belle informed him.

When he didn't speak, she turned to look up at him. He was gaping at her.

"You stole from me?" he asked.

"I didn't steal! You told me that I could 'make myself at home.' So I did!" Her hand brushed a lock of hair aside that had fallen from her clip.

Firelight reflected in her eyes and off her hair as she leaned forward to refill his cup.

He was still gazing at her, his head shaking from side to side. "My little masterpiece. . . ." he murmured in awe.

"I'm not so little," she sat up in mock indignation.

Rumpelstilskin snorted.

She sat up defiant. "Since when is a woman of thirty little?"

He blinked. Hard. "Thirty?"

"Yes," Belle replied. "My age."

He still just gawked. "You're thirty?"

"Rumpelstilskin! I was twenty-eight when I came to your castle," she informed him. "Then you add the time from then till after . . . after . . ." She faltered. "Well, you remember."

"Yes, I've done little else but remember," he said softly, looking away.

"That's in the past," Belle reminded him, squeezing his hand.

He attempted a jest, "In any case, if port was the only vice I left you with, I can rest easy knowing you were otherwise uncorrupted."

"You never corrupted me," Belle said so low he leaned closer to hear.

"I never ..." He looked away, then back at her sharply. "Did you think I would?"

"No," Belle answered. "Not at first. I just left my home with the idea that I would be keeping house, and saving my people. It wasn't till the first night in the dungeon that I even thought of it." He looked past her, his mouth slightly opened in astonishment. She sipped a little more. "It didn't occur to me that everyone's first thought was exactly that."

"Everyone's. First. Thought." Rumpelstilskin repeated. "Who is everyone?" he demanded, darkness coming over his visage.

Belle was emphatically refusing to look at him, regretting whatever she had said to lead the conversation in this direction. Her mouth suddenly felt as dry as cotton.

She swallowed, and then spoke, "My people. The people I saved."

A new emotion then flooded her as she felt his hand tighten, and his features distort. "Because you were with the Beast!"

"We don't have to talk about it. It's past." Belle grew slightly alarmed as a purple haze began to form around his hand.

"So, they did hurt you!"

Now Belle became confused. "Hurt me? Not quite the way I would put it."

His head whipped around, "Not quite!" his volume raised, "not quite?"

Tears began to form in her eyes. "I told you it was past."

"Past?" he snarled. He spun her around, "Past. Let's see if this is past."

Alarm abruptly turned to horror. "Rumpelstilskin! What are you doing?"

He did not answer and instead took the back of her collar. For a split second, Belle felt herself grow cold from head to toe. "Please," she whispered.

He ignored her and pulled the collar down an inch and ran his hand across her shoulders. "Nothing," he said. "There's nothing."

"Of course there's nothing. What were you expecting?" She turned around slowly, and raised her eyes in time to see his shoulders begin to shake. "What is it? Oh for the love of the gods, look at me!'

He did, as one in slow motion. Under some control now, his voice was only shaking a little. "I was told that you were . . ."

"That I was what?" A horrible dread came over her. What did he think had happened?

He closed his eyes and whispered, "That you were imprisoned and scourged." He took her by the shoulders, shaking her a little, "But there are no scars! No scars." And then he placed his head in his hands and openly sobbed.

"No!" Belle protested. "Never! My father would not have allowed that. Ever!" Her eyes flashed fire. "Is that what people thought happened to me? You thought my father would hurt me like that?"

"It's what I was told," he shot back, whipping his hands away from his face. "I didn't believe it at first. SHE was the one who told me. So I went to see for myself and everything that I was told in the village seemed to corroborate what she said."

Belle moaned. "No. Oh no." She took his head firmly between her hands as she declared, "I was only dead because I made myself dead!"

"Made yourself dead?" he asked confused.

"After you sent me away," he visibly winced, "and I went home. I was, to my people . . . damaged goods."

Rumpelstilskin shook his head. But Belle continued. She had to now.

"They didn't believe me when I said that you had not touched me. That I was still a maiden."

"Because there was no way the Beast would have left you so," he said bitterly.

She continued as though he had not spoken, "They thought I was under a spell. Papa refused to allow anyone to harm me." Tears began to trickle down her cheeks. "But he also could not bear to be with me. He said it was his fault. He should have let the whole village go to perdition before he would sacrifice his daughter. Each day I saw him die a little." She wiped her eyes. "I couldn't stay. I decided to do what I had always wanted. I was going to see the world. But Belle the Princess had to die. I owed him that."

"You owed him nothing!" Rumpelstilskin spat.

"Yes, I did," Belle contradicted, her voice matching his. He was not the only one whose anger could be inflamed in a moment. "Papa did not ask for this to occur. What he believed happened to me is every father's worst nightmare! I had to free him. So I left him a note detailing why I had to leave, and that he could say my madness drove me to kill myself. That he should 'bury' me quickly to avoid shame. That he could live in his village as he should: The Crowned Prince who, like so many before him, had a child stolen away by Rumpelstilskin."

Rumpelstilskin still looked forward, rage on his face, but his hands relaxed.

"Have you not wondered why I didn't ask if my father was here?" Belle asked, tears coming again. Caressing the side of his face. Calming him.

"No," he whispered. Belle found his glass and bade him drink. He did, as did she.

Then she laid her head once more on his shoulder, reaching up to caress his hair. "It's all in the past."

"The past," he repeated.

Belle nodded off and dozed until the clock striking twelve abruptly brought her head up.

"You're exhausted," Rumpelstilskin said. "You must get to bed."

She looked down, "I don't want to."

"Are you still having nightmares?" he asked. "Because if you are, I can take them away." He raised his hand and purple mist began to appear.

"No," she caught his hand, stopping him. "No nightmares. I had nothing last night but dreams of safety and love." Her eyes were shining. Rumpelstilskin could have sworn that they sparkled. She moved in, and touched her forehead to his. Their kiss. "I just don't want to be away from you," she whispered.

"Then you shan't," he replied, lifting her and carrying her up the stairs.

…

Belle woke with the sunlight. Her eyes opened and beheld only the stubbly chin of Rumpelstilskin. Her head was on his chest, gently rising and falling with each breath of his. She sighed with contentment. Could True Love's Kiss really be better than this? Better than the man she loved placing her in bed, and drawing her to him as she fell into sleep? Shifting in the night sometime so that his head was on her shoulder, then back again. Never had she felt so satisfied, and yet aware of something that lay beyond her grasp.

She reluctantly left the bed for necessity. The cold outside the covers struck her immediately. Minutes later, she had gone to her closet to see if there were slippers. Her feet were chilled by the cold floor. Then she looked and looked, finally her lips formed a tight line.

When Rumpelstilskin opened his eyes it was to a lovely lady gazing at him, holding both his hands captive, and leaning in, looking at him with great expectation.

"You are beautiful, cute as a kitten, desirable as a goddess, and I love you." She smiled. His face was then abruptly in hers as he demanded, "And what do you want?"

"A new wardrobe!" Belle exclaimed. "Have you seen those hideous clothes?"

"That's all," he chuckled. "Belle, you don't have to use womanly wiles to get that. I will always give you anything you want."

"Very well." She sat up on her knees and said, "I want a new wardrobe!"

"Consider it done," he began to swish his fingers.

She caught hold of his hand, "No!"

"No?"

"No," Belle repeated. "You will just create what you would have me wear. Remember the blue dress you gave me at the castle?"

"With infinite fondness."

"As I thought," Belle sniffed.

"Your little ball gown was far more 'interesting' than anything I made." He wagged a finger in her face. "And you could have just flatly refused to wear the clothes I gave you."

"Not likely," Belle retorted. "You would have retaliated and done worse!"

He giggled, a very Rumpelstilskin giggle. "Why, yes I would have." He pulled some stray hairs out of her eyes, and touched his forehead to hers. "But as you said last night, that's all in the past." She grinned against his cheek. "Very well," he sighed with mock disappointment, "Think of what you want and it shall be!"

It was only later that she found amongst her lovely, but sensible clothes, a red and gold lacy . . . nightdress? She held it up in horror. The trickster! She picked it up, stalked to his bedroom and hung it in his wardrobe. Two could play that game.

As she closed the wardrobe doors, she stopped a moment to hope that this day would be one with only one set of emotions. Not back and forth from pure joy to despair, to . . . fear.

She wanted THAT also in the past.

She snuck out of his room and tiptoed past his study, where he had been for most of the afternoon. When she had asked him for what, before he closed the doors, he told her that the previous night had reminded him of a task to which he needed to get about doing.

"What task?" she had asked.

"Research."


	5. Chapter 4

A.N. Very humbled by the kind comments, and most importantly, the knowledge that people are enjoying this. I just wanted to write down 'CLOSURE!' after the season finale. I hope that the alerts and followers mean that I have been able to give, in a small way, just that as we wait for Season 2. Thank you.

Chapter Four

Belle was curled up on a red chaise lounge in the library. Rumpelstilskin had given it to her and she thoroughly enjoyed all the treasures on its many shelves. Yet now she rubbed her neck for it was stiff. Reading for hours would do that. Standing and stretching, she was surprised to see the Sun already setting. Yet in all that time she had not seen Rumpelstilskin leave his room. Her stomach growled. She needed to get dinner going. She went to the study and tried to turn the door knob. It did not budge. Locked. Belle was not happy about that. Not at all.

She knocked softly. "Rumpelstilskin?" No answer. "Rumpelstikskin, unlock the door," she said louder. Still no answer. She knocked harder. "Open this door!"

At that she heard movement, then a click as the door unlocked. "My apologies, Belle," Rumpelstilskin appeared. "I was quite into my reading."

Belle reached out and pushed the door open all the way and did not recognize the study at first. There were books, papers, tiny notes, even scrolls scattered all over the room. Pens and ink everywhere.

"I would say so." She raised her chin, hands clenched by her side. "Why did you lock the door?"

Rumpelstilskin shrugged. "Old habits die hard, I suppose." He took her hand, and pulled her away from the study. "Let's eat."

"I haven't got tea ready."

"What have you been doing all day?" Rumpelstilskin frowned.

Belle crossed her arms, "Research."

Rumpelstilskin broke eye contact first, and looked down with a rather rueful laugh. "I suppose I deserved that."

But then he gave her his dark, puppy-eyes, and she nearly dropped the topic.

Nearly.

"What were you researching?" she asked.

"Just a few, let's say, adjustments to the current situation," he answered as he continued to lead her to the stairs.

"What adjustments?"

"Well, when I made my plans, it was without you in them. I need to work out a way to change that," he patted her side, "and see to some other matters."

"Such as?" Belle asked.

"Matters," he answered vaguely. "Let's get cooking."

8&8&8&

Belle did not know how late it was until she turned the last page of her book. She had been reading ever since Rumpelstilskin retreated to the study after dinner. She got out of bed, slipped her feet into her fluffy slippers, and put an equally pink robe on over her floor length, white cotton nightdress. The nightdress SHE chose.

He must be in the study again. Belle turned the knob. It was unlocked. She knocked as she opened the door. And froze. Scattered all over the room were formulas, not only on hundreds of sheets of paper, but also on the walls, even the desk.

"Ah, love," Rumpelstilskin walked to her, pressing his forehead to hers. "Go on to bed without me. I'm not quite done for tonight."

"You've been in here all day," Belle reminded him, trying not to show any disquiet at the state of his study. "Come and rest." She reached out her hand to him.

He turned back to the desk. "Later. Go to bed."

Only the last thing that Belle could do was sleep. She sat up waiting to hear him leave the study, but she never heard a sound and, despite her attempts to the contrary, she fell asleep.

8&8&8&

Belle awoke sprawled very ungracefully across her bed. She lifted her head and looked from side to side. He hadn't come to her. Maybe in his room?

She jumped out, and went to his bedroom. The bed was completely made up. Not slept in.

So off to the study. She strode straight to it and swung open the door, not bothering to knock. He was staring intently at a page in front of him.

"Rumpelstilskin?"

His head jerked up, "What? What?"

Belle's face fell. He got up immediately and walked quickly to her side.

"I'm sorry, dearie." He leaned down and hugged her. "So sorry. I'm just rather frustrated with a snag I've come across."

"Apology accepted," Belle hugged him back. A discussion for later. "Don't you want something to eat?"

"Yes, yes." He rubbed his face. "Some tea."

"And a bath?" Belle wrinkled her nose. "You've been in here all day and night."

His face scrunched up a little, "I prefer showers."

"Showers?"

"Ah, you haven't learned. I'll show you."

He led her into his room: a large master bedroom, complete with the accompanying bathroom. The shower was separate from the tub. He turned the tap. Belle jumped back at seeing the rush of water, and the steam that filled the chamber. Rumpelstilskin turned it off.

"That, my dear, is a shower!" He held out his arms with a flourish.

Belle's mouth hung slightly open, "Amazing."

"You should try it."

Belle could not help but blush at the talk of bathing.

Rumpelstilskin saw and laughed.

"Stop it!" She slapped him on his wrist.

"My apologies, again." He did not sound sorry.

"Yes. Yes," Belle said impatiently. "But please stop steering the conversation away from what you are doing in the study!"

He looked surprised at her question, "Why, my work."

"What is there to do?" she asked. "You have your magic. We leave, and search this world for your son. It's simple."

"Ah, well," Rumpelstilskin hedged. "There's a wee more to it than that."

"Such as?" Belle's eyebrows rose, tilting her head from side to side mirroring his movements.

He patted her shoulder. "The less you know the better. As for leaving," he shrugged. "I am certain I can leave, but not so sure about you."

That gave Belle pause. "Why couldn't I leave?"

"Weellll," Rumpelstilskin hesitated again tilting his head, then said quickly. "Part of the curse was that nobody from the Enchanted Forest could leave." His hands came out, palms up to emphasize. "And anyone who tried had the requisite car accident."

"Car accident?" Belle asked, alarmed.

"It's of those little quirks of Storybrooke.," he explained. "Rather eccentric town. Anyways, in my wanderings, I have seen that nobody wants to attempt leaving. Not just yet." He looked thoughtful. "They don't fancy, I suppose, finding out the hard way that they're still stuck here. And I certainly am not risking learning the hard way with you!" He touched her on the nose as he said it.

Belle stepped back from him, "Your wanderings?"

"Oh. Yes," his eyes shifted, "I've been about town in our 'down time.' It's all very dull. The Queen just sits and plots, and people at Granny's spend their days arguing such mundane things as 'Will driving past the Storybrooke sign kill me?'"

She took a step forward, "Could I come with you sometime?"

"No!" he said a little too sharply. His voice softened, "I said I would protect you. The safest place for you is right here."

"Can't you protect me if I stay by you? I'm getting somewhat disconcerted by staying in one place."

"You didn't at the castle!" he accused.

"It was large!"

At that, he shot a look at her, astonished, but her earnest expression told him that she wasn't saying what he thought. "Indeed." He agreed. But then his face displayed the utmost seriousness. "There is a witch out there who locked you up for twenty-eight years. While I'm willing to stand by and see the townspeople wring their hands over her, you are a different matter."

Belle started to retort. But a pointed finger in her face made her think otherwise. There was no arguing with him when he was like this.

She sighed, "Fine. But will you please get in that . . . shower, and then rest? You'll make yourself ill."

He shook his head, "I don't get ill, Belle. And I don't need to rest." He put his hand at the small of her back and gently pushed, "Now shoo! And make some tea!"

8&8&8

Belle did brew some tea. For herself. She wasn't keen on waiting on him after his inconsiderate – alarming?- cloistering of himself in his study. He could make his own bloody tea. She went upstairs and decided to try the shower in her room. It was magnificent. It looked like it would be easier to use this contraption to wash and condition her hair.

She pulled a blue dress on, but kept her fluffy slippers, thought about putting up her hair, then let it down, parted to the side. Satisfied, she padded downstairs and was surprised to hear arguing in the living room.

She tiptoed down and saw a man of about forty, with reddish hair. "You can't just force me to come here," he protested.

Rumpelstilskin held out his hand, slightly in apology, "I wish I didn't have to. But I believe this is the only way I could keep my appointment."

"Your appointment? Are you crazy? There are no 'sessions' anymore! "

"How insensitive. Calling a client crazy! How did you get your license?" The man did not answer. "You can't tell me you're retiring?" Rumpelstilskin accused.

"No! Or, yes. I . . . I haven't actually thought about it. There are far more important things going on than keeping up with my schedule!"

"I disagree," Rumpelstilskin said simply.

The man threw up his hands. "Couldn't you have just come to my office if it was so important to you?" He gestured to his leg. "Especially since you're more mobile now."

Rumpelstilskin steepled his hands. "You said yourself you were not keeping office hours. And in any case, there is another reason." He turned around on the couch. "Come on down, Belle. You don't have to listen from the landing!"

Belle muttered a curse under her breath. She was silly to think she could eavesdrop.

Nothing for it. She put a smile on her face. This obviously was not a client for a 'deal.' She actually was a little curious.

The visitor, on seeing her, stood up, bowing his head slightly.

"Belle, this is Dr. Hopper. Dr. Hopper, Belle."

"Pleased to meet you," Dr. Hopper said.

Rumpelstilskin held out his hand to Belle, palm up, and flicked his fingers towards himself, bringing her to sit by his side. Dr. Hopper sat down as well. He began to ask a question, but closed his mouth, looking at Rumpelstilskin. Then Belle.

"Ah, I should have asked," Rumpelstilskin said apologetically. "Do you offer couples' counseling? And if you do, is there a surcharge?"

"Couples?" Dr. Hopper asked in a surprise that immediate disappeared. He was, after all a professional and could not help but step immediately back into the role. "Why, yes. I do." He looked at Belle. "You are his . . .?"

"Let's just keep it simple," Rumpelstilskin said. "Always a good idea with my personal relationships. Let's just say," he paused, thinking of the right word. "She's my girlfriend."

Belle's head whipped to the side, "What?" she asked. "Girlfriend?"

"Ah," said Doctor Hopper. "Maybe we could start with the way Belle views your relationship. How do you feel about this?" he asked her.

"About being called a girlfriend?" Belle inquired.

"Is there something you would like Rumpelstilskin to say about that?"

"Something I want him to say?"

Belle looked to Rumpelstilskin, who instructed her. "You can answer him honestly. That's his job. Completely confidential," he assured her, patting her knee.

Belle turned back to Dr. Hopper. "Confidential." She assumed a wary expression. Very much the way she looked before she regained her memories and Rumpeltstilskin had fallen on her in passionate tears. "So, we just talk to you?"

"That's one way of seeing it," Dr. Hopper nodded. "I listen, we talk. Perhaps in the process it will help you through whatever difficulties or problems you're facing."

Belle's head went back to Rumpelstilskin, "You make appointments to talk?"

"Twice a week!" Rumpelstilskin confirmed.

"You pay him?"

"Well!"

Dr. Hopper interrupted, "Uh, Miss . . .?"

"Belle."

"Yes, Belle. You seemed to take umbrage at him labeling you."

"Label? No. No. Titles and labels are good. I grew up with them. But I've already told him that I don't like being called a 'girl!'"

"Love, it's an expression." Rumpelstilskin explained. "It was the closest thing I could think of so that the bug would get it."

"Bug?" Dr. Hopper's voice rose, losing just a little bit of his professionalism.

Belle did not hear him. "You could have called me . . .called me . . ."

"What? Wife?" Rumpelstilskin asked. "We're not married. And mistress? Certainly you're not!"

"Oh, good gods!" Belle exclaimed, blushing to her ears, and more than a little indignant. She looked at Mr. Hopper with caution and then hissed at Rumpelstilskin. "It's none of his business!"

"If I may, Belle," Dr. Hopper intervened. " I take it you have not been in therapy before?"

"Therapy?" She took a breath and looked at Dr. Hopper. "I'm not sure what you are on about, but I can say that I'm not used to talking about private things with strangers!"

"Rest assured, as Mr. Gold said . . ."

"Rumplestilskin," he was corrected.

"Rumpelstillskin," Dr. Hopper conceded. "Rest assured, Belle, that anything you tell me is entirely confidential."

"It's okay, Belle." Rumpelstilskin nodded reassuringly. "You can answer him."

"But only if you want to," Dr, Hopper told her.

Belle let out a breath of air. "Fine. It's really very simple. I'm not a girl. I'm thirty. Why does everyone call me a girl?"

"So you feel that people think of you as a child?"

"Well, yes. I suppose. And often treat me like I am." Her eyes were shifting, not sure how she got into this awkward conversation.

"If I may," Dr. Hopper offered. "That term does not imply immaturity, but rather describes a romantic relationship without matrimony."

"Exactly!" Rumpelstilskin exclaimed. "You see," he told Belle. "Listen to the cricket! I wasn't trying to patronize you."

Dr. Hopper closed his eyes, letting out a breath slowly, then continued. "So, how long have you been seeing each other?"

"Counting the curse?"

"Uh, no. I'm assuming like everybody else, you were separated when the curse happened."

"Actually," Belle answered. "We separated before that."

"I see." Dr. Hopper clasped his hands together and leaned forward. "May I ask then, if you are Baelfire's mother?"

"No," Rumpelstilskin said before Belle could answer. "My wife died long before I met Belle."

"So you got together . . .?"

"About two years before the curse."

"Ah. So you never knew Baelfire?" Dr. Hopper asked Belle.

"No."

He looked to Rumpelstilskin. "When you do find Baelfire, it's important that Belle be included in his life, since she's in yours."

Belle spoke up, "We haven't thought that far ahead."

"Finding my son is the goal," Rumpelstilskin stated.

"Ah. Your goal. Let's look a little closer at that . . ."

8&8&8&

Belle and Rumpelstilskin sat in the dining room having tea in silence.

"Did you have to bring up Gaston?" Rumpelstilskin burst out.

"He asked me if there was anything else I wanted to discuss!"

Rumpelstilskin pressed his lips tightly together. "You really want me to reverse the spell? You yourself said he was an ass!"

"I said 'superficial,'" Belle corrected him. "There is a difference, and it certainly didn't merit what you did to him!"

"It wasn't so bad," Rumpelstilskin insisted. "The dolt didn't know what hit him!"

Belle stared at him.

"Fine!" He snapped his fingers. "It's done. Happy?"

Belle narrowed her eyes. Rumpelstilskin sighed, and flicked his wrist again. "Completely done!"

She smiled at him, got up from her seat, and moved onto his lap, pressing her forehead to his. "Thank you," she whispered.

"I told you I would give you anything you want."

"Not everything," she said.

"What now?" He looked suspicious.

"Idiot!" she slapped his shoulder lightly. "I want to be with you!"

His arms tightened, "You are. Always."

"What I mean is, I don't want you to go back to the study tonight." He looked away. "That was your plan wasn't it?"

"Belle, it's important work."

"Can it wait till tomorrow? " Belle pleaded. "You said we would have time for 'that.' Isn't now a good time for 'that?'" He opened his mouth to protest, but then a gleam came into his eyes. He stood up abruptly and hugged her. "What was that for?" she asked.

"For stopping my thoughts just enough so that I could see a perfect way to overcome the first obstacle!" Rumpelstilskin replied.

"And that is?"

"Making sure you can leave Storybrooke without getting hurt!" He pressed his hand to her face. "You can have me. You saved me weeks of work!" He hugged her again.

Belle couldn't help but laugh. "You're welcome, I suppose. Then let's go to the garden!" she said, grabbing his hand.

So they left to spend the evening together. It was time for 'that.'

8&8&8

Later they sipped port again by the fire. Talking, sharing, laughing, especially the more they drank. Eventually they fell asleep together, holding hands.

But Belle awoke in the middle of the night and he was not there. She got up and went to the study, and her heart sank when she put her hand on the door knob.

The door to the study was locked.


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

"Up!"

Belle stirred from sleep.

"Up, I say!" Her covers were yanked away. She sat up gasping from rush of cold.

"Rumpelstilskin what the . . .?"

"I'm sorry you didn't hear me, dearie." He leaned over her in the bed, his face in hers. "Up!"

"But it's still early," Belle objected.

"You can sleep when you're dead." He grabbed both her hands and pulled. She popped up and out of the bed.

"Can you please explain this to me, before you break all my bones?"

"I did it!" Rumpelstilskin announced triumphantly.

Belle shook her head, her eyes squinting, "Did what? What did you do?"

"I solved our problem!" Rumpelstilskin exclaimed in triumph.

"Which one?" Belle asked drily.

He ignored that and grabbed her around the waist swinging and releasing her so that she nearly flew into the wardrobe, the doors opening with magic. When she regained her balance, she protested. "Rumpelstilskin!"

"Belle!"

She gave a grunt of frustration. "You still haven't answered me! What did you do?"

"I found out that you can leave!"

"Leave?" She could leave? "It's safe to leave Storybrooke?"

"Yes! When the Queenie's little curse broke, the 'Sign of Doooooom' lost its power!"

"Truly?" She was getting excited. "How did you find out?"

Then his eyes shifted. "Well the details are really not that important, very complicated."

Belle raised her eyebrows. "How complicated?"

He ignored that too and instead flicked his wrist. A dress flew out and two flats. "Get dressed!" He patted her cheek and left the room.

8&8&

Belle looked around in wonder as Rumpelstilskin drove her through Storybrooke. "Your typical small town. Diner, Garage, Bank, Library, Evil black cloud hanging over the Evil Mayor's Mansion."

"You forgot to add 'people staring at you with unspeakable terror,'" Belle quipped.

"Can't imagine why," he commented. "I'm a very helpful person." Belle looked skeptical. "Belle, I never give anybody anything for which they did not ask." He pulled ahead as the light turned green.

"Almost there," he announced.

As they approached the city-limits, they saw many cars. "What's going on?" Belle asked.

"Not sure," Rumpelstilskin frowned, pulling over. Belle could not help but notice how the crowd parted in front of them as they walked. She felt even more naked than usual in her modern, knee-length dress as people continued to stare at them. But nobody made eye contact. Rumpelstilskin let out a small hiss and clasped her hand.

"What is it?" Belle whispered.

"Nothing for it," he said under his breath. "We're here now." They had reached the line, and nothing happened. He walked Belle back and forth. Nothing. He gave her his half-smile. "Well now that that's done, why don't we . . ."

"Rumpelstilskin!" Belle saw a tall man come through the crowd. People began to back away. As he got closer, to Belle's astonishment, she recognized Gaston.

"You villain!" He barreled towards her companion, fists out. Was the idiot trying to start a fight?

Rumpelstilskin lazily snapped his fingers. Gaston froze. "You never learn, do you, dearie?"

Belle turned to Rumpelstilskin, and said in a hushed voice , "Why is he so mad at you?"

"Besides taking his fiancé to live a life of servitude? I believe he's a little grumpy about my little experiment earlier today."

"What experiment?" Belle's teeth ground together.

"Let's wait until we're home again." He was looking warily over her shoulder. "People are taking far too much interest in you."

They swiftly walked back to the car. As they drove away, Rumpelstilskin lifted his fingers and snapped again. Belle turned around to see Gaston drop to the ground as they sped away.

8&8&8&8

They had driven home in silence, Belle's lips in a tight line.

He didn't speak until they got to the front door.

"I needed some help with seeing if people could leave," he explained. "So I thought a volunteer would do the job."

"Gaston volunteered?" Incredulity all over her features.

"Not exactly."

Belle crossed her arms. "The FULL story."

"Very well," Rumpelstilskin gave in. "I went to the apartment over the Game of Thorns Store, yanked the dolt out of bed, using magic of course- he's massive- drove to the sign, and tossed him across the city-limits." He unlocked the door with his hand and walked inside, but Belle did not enter.

"What is it?" a hint of annoyance in his voice.

"You could have killed him!" she accused.

"Oh no. Not that. I was almost certain that it would be fine. Remember the problem wasn't that people didn't know they could leave, it was that nobody wanted to be the FIRST to leave!" He clapped his hands together. "Problem solved! He did a great public service." He reached out the door to pull her in. "Come inside. I don't think you should go out front anymore."

That stopped her in her tracks. "Why not?"

Rumpelstilskin closed the door. "The less people know of you the better. I didn't like that little scene at the town limits and how people were looking at you." He moved to the stairs.

She followed at his heels. "And how exactly was that?"

He turned around to face her at the landing. "Curious."

"Well, why wouldn't they be? They were probably just wondering where I came from!"

"Yes. And that's the kind of interest that leads to nosiness, then from nosiness to . . . ."

"To?" Belle asked.

"Danger," he replied. "I was foolish today. From now on you can only go outside in the back garden, and not," he pointed his finger at her, "alone."

Rumpelstilskin continued to walk up the stairs leaving Belle standing agape. He reached the first floor before she shouted up, "I'm not your captive any more. I don't need your permission to do anything!"

He was by her in a flash. "This is not captivity." His face was inches away, and his expression rather unpleasant. "It is safety." Now the finger nearly jabbed at her chest, stopping only millimeters away.

But Belle did not budge. "That may scare others. But not me. NOT ME!" She stood up straighter, flattened her palm, and slapped his hand away from her, moving by him and up the stairs.

"You really think you're going to leave this house?" He followed. "Coming and going as you please!"

She continued on into her room, he right behind her. She grabbed a suitcase from the closet. "What are you doing?" Rumpelstilkin demanded.

"Packing," Belle replied.

Once again he was by her at light-speed. He slammed the lid shut. "You are not going anywhere!"

Belle whirled on him. "I'm not leaving you, we already settled that!" She snapped the suitcase open again. "We're going on our search for Baelfire, now that we know I can leave." She started putting clothes in her suitcase. She walked past him, back and forth from her wardrobe to her bed. "And you know what else Rumpelstilskin? I'm getting bloody sick of you and your shifting moods. One minute the kind, gentle, loving, the other, a . . . "

"A what?" His voice seemed to drop an octave.

Belle replied with an indignant tremor. "I won't walk on eggshells always wondering if something I say will trigger the . . . darker part of you." She kept packing, kicking off her flats resulting in her bare feet making little stomps on the hardwood floor. "So let's get out of here, find your son, get ourselves a lovely cottage by the seaside, and start a wee spinning business!"

"Spinning business?"

"Or whatever you want to do! Just find your son and we leave. Forget everything. Just go away!"

"We can't go yet," Rumpelstilskin said.

Belle turned and through gritted teeth asked, "Why not?"

"Because there's one more thing I need to do," he let her know.

"One more thing?" She looked suspicious, "Just one?"

"Or two. I don't know." He peered at her. "Give me just a few more days to work. I'm nearly there. Then we'll go. I promise." Belle still looked skeptical. "Do you really think that I don't want to get out of here as quickly as possible?" Rumpelstilskin demanded. "I've waited centuries to get my son back!"

At that, Belle stopped and sighed. It was at an end. How could she continue to protest when he brought up his son?

"Fine," she decided abruptly, and began to unpack. "A few more days." She repeated firmly.

Rumpelstilskin came up behind her, and put his hands on each of her shoulders, rubbing up and down her arms. "This new magic came from True Love," he spoke in by her ear. "It will find my son, and then we can go home. Everyone can."

"That's what this was all about?" Belle turned around to look at him. "True Love brought back magic to attract your son, then we all will be free?"

"That is why the drop of the potion was put on the original curse. That linked Emma, the savior, to my son. Until Bae goes home, no one does."

"What about the Queen?" Belle asked softly.

"Boy Charming has her at bay for now. He got that little fairy to do something. But that's their fight. When the time is right, and only then, I will deal with Regina."

Belle felt as though the room became ten degrees colder. "You'll wait that long to pay her back?"

"I'm a patient man." A disturbing smirk came over his visage, "And I have something very special planned for her." Belle locked eyes with him. "Do you object?"

She just kept looking at him.

His eyes were now boring into hers. "Twenty-Eight years locked away like an animal," he whispered.

Belle said nothing, and then went about hanging her clothes back up.

Rumpelstilskin nodded, "Then we are of one mind on that point."

Belle still did not speak. She tried to find it within herself to tell him 'no,' that whatever he planned would be evil, no matter how much Regina deserved it. But she found she could not say the words.

Rumpelstilskin walked to her, his hands on her shoulders. "I will protect you," his forehead dipped to hers. That unsatisfying 'kiss.' He lifted her chin up so that she would look at him. "All made up?"

Belle nodded and smiled. He touched her face and walked to the bedroom door.

"Wait!" Belle suddenly said, breaking the moment. "Not quite."

He frowned. "What now?"

"You owe me another story."

"A story?"

"A story," she repeated. "Of what you did to Gaston when I was at the castle and how the hell you got him to come back!"

A.N. The 'wee spinning business' is in homage to Robert Carlyle's response to my tongue-in-cheek tweet about the show's plans for Charming and Rumpelstilskin. Any references to a 'spinning business' belong to him.


	7. Chapter Six

Chapter Six

"You turned Gaston into a rose and then let me cut him up!"

"Just the bottom tip," Rumpelstilkin reminded her with the same nonchalance as when he had said that she had chipped 'just a cup.'

"Only the tip?" Belle repeated outraged.

"He felt no pain I assure you. He was just a pretty flower. And he was well cared for. Ever since I gave Rosy Gaston to your father, he'd actually been doted on more than he was as a human. Miracle Grow! It was, after all what started the flower shop."

Bell's fists clenched and she grunted in frustration, her face scrunched up. "Are you listening to yourself?"

"It was like falling asleep," Rumpelstilskin defended. "Just a rather long sleep. In a manner of speaking, he's luckier than others here. He dozed through the curse and woke up without two sets of memories to deal with!"

Belle's hand started rubbing her forehead. Was that a headache coming on? Once again, he had found an excuse that she could not logically argue against.

Oh no, he gave the 'look' now! "Can you pardon me?"

"I don't know," Belle replied. "Give me a few days and I'll think about it."

"That's my girl!" He patted her cheek, and then headed for the stairs.

"Where are you going?" Belle asked. "It's tea-time."

"Ah that. Could you bring some up to me? I need to get back to work."

Rumpelstilskin did not wait for her answer, and left her standing alone in the living room watching him walk away.

8&8&8&

He had been in the study for close to two days straight, just answering in a monosyllable if she knocked on the door. Sometimes she heard him talking, and then a voice answer.

But the locked door would not open.

Belle could not quite fault him, since he did say to give him a few days. Maybe this 'bender' would complete the work, and they could start their search.

The first day, she wandered around the house and garden, or reading her favorite books. That night she opened his most expensive bottle of sherry with a sly grin. She sipped once or twice, then poured it down the sink. Let's see how he likes that!

But there was only so much before boredom set in. So she began to clean the house, from the basement to the attic. The dining room took the longest, for he had precious china and cutlery to dust and polish. He also kept his wine and spirits collection there, stacked along the wall. She ran her feather duster quickly over the myriad of bottles, before moving on to the front room, where she saw it.

The chipped cup.

It had a place of honor of the top shelf of a solid oak cabinet, sitting on red silk. He had kept it all these years. Belle held out a hand, nearly touching the glass, before she reached for the tiny knob. Locked away. Like all his precious things. Tears pricked her eyes despite herself. She had told him that the cup was all he would be left with, and she was right. Yet it was one thing to say it, to know it was quite another.

How melancholy. How sad.

Just like her.

She found her spirits dipping. This could not go on. She would go mad with the waiting if something did not change. Waiting reminded her too much of the cell she had lived in. Then Belle angrily wiped the tears away. Weeping would not make time move any faster, it only exhausted her. Weeping, she knew, would not get him out of that study, or bring back Baelfire.

When the third day came, however, it really was too much. She started knocking more often, asking who was visiting him.

"Later, dearie," she heard him call. "I'm almost there."

"Almost where?" she asked. There was no answer. She turned away in disgust and went downstairs again. Why wouldn't he stop, for just a little bit? As she sat down, a thought occurred to her: Could he stop?

After night three, he came out. Belle was sitting up in bed and reading. She had found some Agatha Christie books to which she took an immediate liking. She gave a startled squeak, when Rumpelstilskin appeared out of nowhere and plopped down next to her. Belle recovered quickly and tightened her hold on the book.

"Three days," she said calmly, but her expression was rather fierce.

"Which gets us faster to where we need to be," Rumpelstilskin responded.

Belle turned a page, her gaze focused on the book. "It's not as though I have company here."

"I'm sorry." He reached out and took the book from her hands, forcing her to look at him. "I promise to make it up to you once I get this figured out." His face was gentle, and kind. "We'll take a cottage at the seaside for a weekend, before setting off. Would that suit?"

"Wouldn't you rather start immediately?"

"Two days won't make a difference," he replied. "It will give us time to rest and clear our heads. Once we start, we won't have that luxury."

"How big a cottage?" Belle's cocked her eyes.

"As big as you want!" He chuckled, "Or cosy and small, if you wish." His eyes widened a little with a question he did not need to ask. She knew what he was asking.

Belle, to her great frustration, could not help herself and gave in. "Very well. Deal!"

"Be careful dearie, deals are my business," Rumpelstilskin cautioned.

"But it takes two parties for one to be made, am I correct?"

"You're using my words against me," he warned lightly.

The glare he received showed she was not quite ready to be teased.

"I am well rebuked." He gave her a sheepish look and held out a small box, opening the top. "Forgive me?"

Belle took it. Inside was a sparkling sapphire necklace.

To Belle's great frustration, she did forgive him. Dammit! "Thank you," she touched her forehead to his. "I forgive you, you devil!"

"And I love you," he said. Double dammit! His arms came around her. "Would you like me to help you put it on?"

Belle nodded and he moved behind her, pulling her hair aside to do the clasp. Then he held her at arm's length looking where the sapphire contrasted with the white of her nightdress. "Beautiful," he whispered taking hold of the jewel and kissing it, before letting it go to hang once again from her neck.

Then she fell right onto him, her arms around his neck. He gripped her back equally as tight.

"I love you, too," she said.

8&8&8&

They lay together, his head on her shoulder and arms around her waist as they talked well into the night. Small things, big things, funny things.

He truly was a master when it came to 'making up.'

After a prolonged silence, when he surely must have thought she was asleep, Belle spoke.

"Rumpelstilskin?"

"Mmmm?"

"When you were in the study, I heard you speaking to someone."

"That would be Jefferson, our mutual friend."

"Jefferson." The man who released her from the asylum. "I never saw him enter." Belle noted. "He has magic?"

"Of a sort," Rumpelstilskin answered. "He's a Hatter, with a rather special hat. To thank him for bringing you back to me, I returned it to working order."

"A magical hat?" Belle was intrigued.

"It is very unique. Few know about it. With it, he can travel between worlds."

Belle sat up, away from the pillows like a shot. "Between worlds? So it could get us home without fully breaking the curse?"

"So he plans," Rumpelstilskin affirmed. "He's trying it first, then he plans to return home with his daughter."

"Could we go?" she eagerly asked.

"Not until I find Bae."

"Of course," Belle agreed. "But we could go?"

"Possibly," Rumpelstilskin replied. "But finding Bae will bring us home anyways. The True Love 'addition' is designed to do that automatically."

"But we could?" Belle still wanted to know.

"I don't like being beholden to him for too many things." He frowned. "And why be so eager? There's really no need."

"True," Belle answered slowly, "But isn't it nice to know we have another way, just in case?"

"I designed all of this, Belle. It will work," he stated emphatically.

But she was no longer listening, looking pensively into space. There was another way to go home.

Her mouth opened, then closed.

Rumpelstilskin touched her chin and turned her face to his. "Belle, what is it you want to say?"

She said, "We're completely honest with each other, right?"

"Correct." He was suspicious.

Belle continued, "You said you will give it up."

"Give what up, my dear?"

"Magic," Belle peered into his face. "Once we find Bae."

"Yes, as I told you," Rumpelstilskin knit his brows. "Belle, I keep my word. Do you think I would lie to you?"

"No, not lie, just, perhaps, that it might be more difficult than you think. Giving up magic," she clarified. "I see how you are when you work. I've seen something like it before."

"I am thorough," he defended. "I have to get my work done."

"Yes, I understand." Belle looked down at her lap. "I just worry."

"About what?" He touched her face quizzically.

"That you won't stop," she whispered.

"I will." He reassured her. "This is my fault. I leave you alone with nothing but your thoughts and they can become . . .exaggerated. There's nothing to worry about. Once we find my son, it will stop."

"You swear?"

A pause.

"Belle, why do you want me to swear?" Rumpelstilskin asked quietly.

Belle again avoided his gaze. "It would . . . comfort me."

He gave in, "If it's that important for you to hear the words, then, yes. I swear."

She held out her hand. It was a little too similar to another moment he'd had with a loved one for his comfort. But he shook it.

"We'll break my curse once we find Bae," he asserted.

"So we have a deal?"

"Deal."


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Belle was clattering around the kitchen. Boiling water for tea, checking the oven to see if the scones were ready, cleaning up as she went along when she stopped short. Was that the doorbell?

She heard Rumpelstilskin walk to the front door rapidly, then let out a loud, joyful greeting. She rushed to the kitchen door and peeked out.

A very well dressed man, almost as debonair as Rumpelstilskin, was in the entryway.

"Delighted," Rumpelstilskin clapped him on the back! "Delighted. Come in, dearie."

The man took a step back, "Watch the hands, Rumpelstilskin!"

"Oh, still so dull! I thought that your new fashion sense was a sign that you weren't so drearily uptight!"

"Could we just skip the theatrics? We need to talk."

"'Need to.' You're on my territory, Charming Boy," Rumpelstilskin reminded him. "I say what needs to happen here."

Charming? That was King James!

They must have agreed to move to the living room as the two were now sitting across from each other.

"I'd offer you some tea, but it's not ready yet."

"I didn't come for tea," James retorted.

"I see. I'll make certain the cook's feelings aren't hurt." Rumpelstilskin gave an exaggerated, rueful sigh. "Very well then . . . I can only just say that I'm sorry for all that you're going through, but I am not the best person to come to for relationship advice. However, I highly recommend the Cricket. I would be happy to give you a referral."

James looked at him astonished. "Relationship advice? What the hell are you talking about?"

"Well, aren't you and little Snowy having a rough patch? Difficult when you've run out of things to say. After all, these last days have been the closest thing to normal for you two. When you courted, you never spent more than ten minutes together at a time, and then she got pregnant and hormonal, always going on and on about the 'curse.' Now you've had a chance to get know the real her. It can be a bit of a shock." He nodded in mock sympathy and pressed his lips together, scrunching up his face and pretending to think. "I've got it!" He leaned forward. "What you need is a hobby! Have you ever tried spinning? I'd be happy to teach you."

James just gaped. Belle had to suppress a giggle.

Rumpelstilskin expanded on the topic. "Very relaxing, promotes bonding, and at the end you have cute little blankets!"

"I didn't come to talk about hobbies." James was not amused.

"Oh well," Rumpelstilskin looked disappointed. "Maybe next time."

James shot back, "Hopefully there won't be a next time."

"You wound me!" Rumpelstilskin said as though his feelings were hurt.

James now glared.

"Fine!" Rumpelstilskin was done with that. "Let's get to the point." He rubbed his hands together. "My favorite part. Let's get to the deal!"

"I won't pretend that I wanted to come," James began. "I'm only here because my grandson convinced me. He has a higher opinion of you than you deserve."

Rumpelstilskin steepled his hands, then pointed all ten fingers towards him. "That's not the way I would start the conversation if you are trying to get something from me." Then Rumpelstilskin looked daggers at him. James was taken aback until Rumpelstilskin burst out laughing. "Oh, you're so predictable!"

"Stop it!" James protested.

"Yes, yes. If you insist," Rumpelstilskin continued. "Since you, one could say, used the magic word—your grandson-I'll give you a hearing."

James rubbed his head, clearly attempting to stay calm. "Let's just make this quick. I know you've probably made up your mind anyways about if you're going to help, so I'll just tell you what I want."

"And that is?"

"Some magic."

Rumpelstilskin cackled loudly. "Give magic to you! You of all people should know that it's not possible!"

"Not to me," James explained. "Cast a spell for us."

"What? The little blue fairy hasn't come through?" Rumpelstilskin asked.

James spoke slowly, clearly reluctant to speak on the subject. "As it happens, I suppose she wasn't as strong in her magic as we thought."

"You're a quick one, boy. It only took you a year to figure that out!"

Belle could have sworn that James counted to ten.

"Her spell is about to break," James resumed. "Then Regina will no longer be confined to her mansion."

"Tell me something I don't know," Rumpelstilskin sneered.

"Would you please let me get to the point!"

Rumpelstilskin bowed his head and held out his hands.

"Could you tell me why the Queen is able to penetrate the spell if Good is stronger?"

"You already know the answer Mr. True-Love's-Kiss," Rumpelstilskin pointed his finger at him. "So tell me what we've learned in class today?"

"Perhaps the Blue Fairy herself isn't as good as we thought," James admitted.

"Only perhaps? Just a passing grade, then."

"Stop the games!" James' face was growing red. "Are you going to tell me or not?"

"Ok, only because I don't want to be late for tea." Rumpelstilskin leaned forward, "Love is the strongest power. Nothing can defeat it. Nothing," he hissed.

"You can't be saying that the Blue Fairy has no love?"

"Well, maybe a little," Rumpelstilskin conceded. "She would not have inflicted those slutty jelly-fish costumes on us if she had no love for them."

James frowned, "Love for the fairies?"

"No, the clothes! Pay attention!"

"Stop the playing!" James demanded.

"Oh, I'm not playing, dearie," Rumpelstilskin said calmly. His eyes hardened, "Tell me what you really want."

James let out a long breath and spoke. "I want you to strengthen the spell the fairy cast," James told him. "It should last longer."

"Oh, what I give you won't just last longer. Queenie can never break a spell I cast."

"I'll take your word for it," James said dryly. "Will you do it?"

"Yes!"

The men stared at each other. "And?" James asked.

"And what?"

"What do you want in return?"

"What would I want?" Rumpelstilskin touched a pointed finger to the side of his face. "What could that be? Ah!" His finger shot into the air, as though the thought had just come to him. "Let's say you take this," a Q-Tip appeared in his hands, "and swab it inside little Henry's cheeks!"

"What?"

"I said 'swab it inside . . .'"

"I heard what you said!" James interrupted. "What I want to know is why do you want my grandson's DNA?"

"Let's just say that in my work, I get some . . . knowledge. I think it might be quite useful to both of us in the future." He held out the Q-Tip.

"No." James stood up.

"Oh, do sit down," Rumpelstilskin ordered.

"Not until you tell me what it's for!"

"If you're concerned that I will use it for some horrible spell, I promise you I will not. But that's all I'll tell you." He rested his chin on his hands, "So?"

James looked very conflicted, suddenly made a decision. "Fine! I'll do it."

"Deal!" Rumpelstilskin giggled. James started to leave. "And be mindful, dearie, I'll know if it is really his!"

"I know," James replied. "I'll let myself out."

James walked to the door and stopped. "You hate the Queen, am I right?"

"That is a reasonable assumption," Rumpelstilskin answered.

"Then why don't you join with us in defeating her?"

"Oh, that," Rumpelstilskin batted his hand like he was shooing away a fly. "I have my own special plans for Her Majesty. You just keep doing what you're doing and I'll do what I do." He looked at his watch. "Time to go, it's tea-time!" Rumpelstilskin made a shooing gesture at the King.

But James was not ready to leave just yet. "If you joined us, it would be over sooner. A lot of pain and suffering could be avoided."

"Perhaps." Rumpelstilskin looked curious. "Or why don't you all just call it a day like so many are and take advantage of our friend Jefferson's Ferry Service? It'll get you home with wifey and the family."

Belle felt as though her heart skipped a beat. Jefferson did it. They could travel back to the Enchanted Forest!

"We want it to end," James stated. "And that will only happen if her defeat happens here!"

"If you say so."

"What's that supposed to mean?" James demanded.

"That's for me to know and you to find out!" Rumpelstilskin waved his hand, "Farewell, until we meet again with what I want!"

James left without saying goodbye.

8&8&8&

Rumpelstilskin sat having his tea with Belle.

"Yes?" his voice was back to normal.

"Quite the performance you put on," Belle remarked.

"Acclaimed in two kingdoms!"

"Why do you like to tease those who want a favor?" Belle wanted to know. "You did it to my father, too," she muttered.

"It cuts things to the chase, Belle. Takes away the little fairy tale they've told themselves that even though they want what I give them, they're better than me."

Belle again went quiet, sipping her tea.

"Something else?" Rumpelstilskin asked.

"You spoke of a Ferry service," Belle remarked.

"I told you that Hatter was looking into travelling between worlds," Rumpelstilskin reminded her. "Apparently it worked and most people would far rather trek back home rather than, well, stick around to die a slow painful death if Charming and his Merry Band fail."

Belle said slowly, "I see."

"Yes, very nice of him," Rumpelstilskin dismissed the topic. "Let's speak of it no more." He took something out of his pocket. "The only Ferry I'll have you on is this one." And he pulled out a photo of a small boat.

"What is this?" Belle asked, though she had strong inkling of what it was, not yet allowing herself to hope.

"It apparently goes to a quaint little island, just offshore, and it has these," he whipped out another picture, "adorable cottages!"

Belle jumped up from her seat and threw her arms around his neck, "We're really going?"

"Pack up dearie, we leave bright and early!"

A.N. Thank you for the reviews they are so welcome! I am really touched that many have been 'getting' what I've been trying to convey, and feel that this is true to Rumbelle (and pleased that those who don't think so have been mercifully silent). I also appreciate that many have felt it has helped them with Rumbelle withdrawl –I'm thinking of starting a 12-step program about that. This story has just been flying off my fingers and I finished it today after cloistering myself away. As always, any spinning references belong to Robert Carlyle (tweet responding to my question under my other, Texas Style pen-name)


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Belle was up bright and early, running to the ocean, pulling up her dress, and wading in the water. It was freezing, but she had never felt so free. Leaving behind the confinement of Rumpelstilskin's house had let loose a wild, free-spirited part of her. She kept spinning and looking at the birds, the sky, and inhaling the scent of the salt that she could almost taste.

She spun around and around, until she got dizzy. Her hair was flying out too, like a russet helicopter. She was laughing and kept it up until she finally stumbled over and fell right into the ice-cold water. But that only made her laugh louder. Finally, she got up and sloshed back to shore, not caring that her dress stuck to her legs. As she got closer to the cottage, she saw that Rumpelstilskin was up, and on the porch watching her.

They had left bright and early as promised the previous day, only stopping by the Charming's to pick up the Q-Tip. "Does this count as my favor?" Emma had asked coldly.

"No. That was your father's price," Rumpelstilskin replied. "However, thank you for reminding me. If you'd like, let's settle it now. No time like the present!"

"What do you want?" Emma had folded her arms.

"A name."

"A name?" Emma frowned.

Rumpelstilskin had then turned around to Belle. "We need to be alone."

Belle had stepped up to Rumpelstilskin, "Why?"

He responded in a low voice, "You can't be harmed for what you do not know."

So Belle went to another room and waited until Rumpelstilskin was finished, and then they got into the car and sped out of town.

Now she was at the promised cottage. Rumpelstilskin had even 'dressed down.' He wore the dress shirt, without the jacket or tie, but no coaxing could convince him to get into the water.

As she approached the porch, he called out, "Glad to see you enjoying yourself so much."

Her face shone as she ran up the last of the steps and hugged him. "This is the best gift you could have given me!"

Rumpelstilskin smiled and touched his forehead to hers. "Then it's all worth it." He sat down on a lawn chair, and she went with him cuddling in his lap. "You realize you just made me soaking wet!" he chided.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Belle said without remorse. "I can get up if you want me to!"

She started to stand, but he pulled her back down. "I'll survive."

She giggled and began smoothing his forehead with her hand. "You are relaxing, aren't you?"

"I wouldn't say 'yes,'" he answered slowly, "but there is a certain peace that comes with . . . closure."

"Oh?"

"I was able to finish the first part of my work before we came here. Completely finished."

Suddenly Belle felt the chill of the water. "What was finished?"

"Something that had to be done," Rumpelstilskin said almost indifferently.

"I thought you were working on finding Baelfire?"

"Oh yes, of course. It's all connected. Finding Baelfire will put everything in motion."

"Rumpelstilskin, what did you do?" Belle asked quietly.

"I will tell you, Belle," he answered, "but only after we get home."

"In Storybrooke?"

"In my castle," he said firmly.

Belle knew better than to push the point. "All right. For now." She arose and held out her hand. "Come walking with me?"

"Certainly, my lady," Rumpelstilskin got up and bowed.

They walked on the beach for a while, hand in hand, and then returned to the cottage where Rumpelstilskin sat in an arm-chair while Belle got out of her soaking clothes. When she returned, he was asleep. Belle let him be. He had not slept well for weeks.

That evening she cooked a gourmet meal, which they finished off with port on the porch. As they watched the moon rise, Belle sighed and snuggled into him. "This is just about as close to perfect that it gets."

He laid his head on hers. "I cannot tell you how much that means to me, seeing you so content."

She wrapped her arms around him, "I suppose that has been rather rare in the past thirty years. But there is one thing that would make me even happier."

"Just ask, Belle," Rumpelstilskin said. "I will give you anything you want."

She smiled, "No, you don't have to do anything." She then moved her hand to his neck, and began rubbing the tight muscles. "Relaxing now?"

"Oh, yes." His eyes were closed.

She grinned and put her head back on his shoulder. "That's what I wanted." She continued to rub the muscles on his back.

"I think you missed your calling, Belle. You should have been a masseuse."

"Never say never, my love. There's still time."

Rumpelstilskin suddenly grabbed her and pressed her to him, taking her breath away. "Time," he muttered. "You'll always be mine, won't you Belle?"

She nodded a little confused, "You don't have to ask."

"You know that I love you?"

"Of course," Belle said against his shoulder. "I've always known."

"That's good then." He took her head and pressed his forehead to hers. "That's good."

After the moon rose to its full height and became hidden by a cloud, they moved inside. Rumpelstilskin started a fire and poured them both a fresh glass of port. He then moved to the couch, where Belle sat sideways with her legs over his, his hands on her knees, and eyes closed, as she began reading to him the latest Agatha Christie book she found in her library: _The Murder of Roger Ackroyd. _

When the clock struck eleven, they went to bed. Belle laid her head on his chest, and murmured, "love you," before she dropped off to sleep.

Rumpelstilskin's eyes did not close.

…

The next day was much the same, except Rumpelstilskin insisted on cooking breakfast and serving her in bed. However, Belle could not help but notice that despite all efforts to the contrary, and even after their perfect night, Rumpelstilskin was clearly pre-occupied.

She did not know how much until that evening, when she read the last chapters of _Ackroyd_, and she jumped up saying, "Oh my gods!"

"What?" Rumpelstilskin asked.

"Can you believe it?" Both hands were to the side of her head. "My mind was just blown into a million pieces!"

"Ah, must be a good book," he remarked.

"You weren't listening were you?" she accused.

"Yes, I was." Belle's eyes narrowed. "Somewhat," he admitted.

Her lips pressed together, "Rumpelstilskin, what is it?"

"Nothing." She would not allow him to break eye contact. "It's just. . ."

"Yes?"

"I suppose I was expecting that once we got out of Storybrooke," he began, "that I would be able to make some sort of connection. Feel Baelfire. Or at least sense a glimmer of him."

"It may not be that simple," Belle remarked. "Perhaps once we get closer to Phoenix it will get clearer. Didn't you say that's where you suspected a, what did you say?"

"Epicenter."

"Yes!"

"But my True Love potion is the most powerful magic there is." He stood up, and began pacing.

Belle stopped him and wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head on his shoulder. "We will find him. You knew it would take time." She paused. "Didn't you?"

"I put the whole flask of True Love into the well. I should be feeling his presence!" Rumpelstilskin began pacing again. "I need to see, to concentrate. Maybe I missed something." He turned away. "I'll be in the spare room."

"Rumpelstilskin!" Belle called out. He stopped, turned around and, to his distress, saw that she was holding back tears. She held out her hand. "Three days. Just three days. For us."

Her little heart looked like it might break. Could he give her three days?

He held her eyes for one minute. Two. Then he sighed, defeated. "I can never say no to you, Belle." He strode to her and hugged her. "Three days."

"With no magic," Belle whispered.

"No magic,' he agreed.

…

Belle awoke in the middle of the night, sprawled out over the bed. Did she always do that when she slept? Her head turned to the right and then the left. He was gone.

"Rumpelstilskin?" She jumped up and went straight to the other room, to see if he had isolated himself with his magic after all. The room was empty.

Feeling rather guilty for doubting him, she went back to the sitting room, and then heard steps on the porch. Steps that sounded as though someone was pacing back and forth. Pacing, turning, pacing. Back and forth.

She walked out to him. "Can't you sleep?" She wrapped her arms around herself shivering.

"No," he said. Belle noticed that he was wringing his hands. She put her hands on them, stopping the movement.

Rumpelstilskin whispered something.

"What?" Belle leaned in.

He ran his hand over his face. "Nothing."

"It doesn't look like nothing," Belle protested and touched his cheek. He was sweating. "Are you ill?"

"I don't get sick." Yet he began to rub the back of his head with his hands.

"Please," she held out her hand. "Come to bed."

He nodded and let her lead him back inside to the bedroom. She touched his face. He was now chilled to the bone and shaking.

"Get in," Belle ordered, and then wrapped the comforter around him. "I'll bring some tea."

Later, she laid against him, trying to get him warm, her arms rubbing up and down his.

"Belle?"

"Yes?"

"Would you mind if I used magic just once to light the fire?" he whispered.

"No, of course not. When I said the magic, I meant the . . . whatever you do when you are alone."

Rumpelstilskin nodded and she laid her head in the crook of his neck as he flicked his wrist and the fire in the bedroom roared to life. Immediately she felt his muscles loosen, and he let out a breath of relief. Then he clasped her hand that was around his chest.

Belle dozed off in complete serenity.

He stared at the fire until dawn.


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

The first stop on Belle and Rumpelstilskin's journey was Boston. They checked into a five-star hotel, down town, and the highest building either had been in. The elevator trip to the top took Belle's breath away. After entering their room, she went straight to the window and looked out at the night lights of the city.

She shook her head. It was too much. Rumpelstilskin also came over to look, putting his arm around her. "What do you think?"

"I'm not sure what to think. It just seems unnatural."

He chuckled, "It is unnatural. That's where the expression man-made comes from."

"Thanks for the information. I had no idea," Belle lightheartedly snipped. She turned back to the window. "This view is rather breathtaking," she looked up at him, "but it's still not like our world."

"It's not supposed to be," Rumpelstilskin commented. "Come, let's get room service."

And he went about ordering the most expensive items on the menu, from the entrees to the Champagne. Belle had never had Champagne, and she loved the way it bubbled, and seemed to sizzle in her mouth. The more she loved it, the more she drank. Yet when she got up from the table, she stumbled. Instead of shouting out in alarm, she burst out laughing.

"Uh, oh," Rumpelstilskin said from somewhere far away.

She felt, rather than saw, him guide her to the bed, where she flopped over and crash-landed. She could have sworn she felt someone remove her shoes, but didn't quite know who. For some reason that made her giggle more.

But laughter was far from her mind the next morning when she awoke to find Rumpelstilskin working intently at the table and she felt . . .

"Rumpelstilskin?" she called, but it came out a croak.

"Yeeeeesss?" He turned toward her.

"I think there's something wrong with me." She held her head. "I ache all over. Could it be the flu?"

"I think not," he replied, with a wry grin.

"No, no, I'm serious," Belle insisted weakly. "I really think I have the flu!"

Out of nowhere she felt a wet facecloth placed on her neck. "Yes, dearie. You have the flu. The self-inflicted kind!"

"What?" Her voice was muffled because she now lay face-down.

"Belle, you are drunk!" And he laughed.

"No," she moaned, lifting her head. "I . . . I don't get drunk."

"Of course not!" He waved his hand over her and she was instantly cured. She sat up and looked at his amused eyes.

"Glad you enjoyed that!" She scolded.

"It was so cute! How could I not?" He touched his forehead to hers.

She got up in a huff, "I'm taking a shower."

"You do that," he raised his eyebrows a little wickedly earning a glare. "Enjoy yourself." He touched her face. "I have some things to look into."

"What things?" Belle asked.

"Some inquiries to make. You must stay here." Rumpelstilskin waved his hand over the door. "This will keep you safe."

"Can't I come with you?"

He shook his head. "It's better if I am the only one." He handed her the remote. "Enjoy exploring cable TV."

After he had left, Belle showered, and then read for awhile. Finally she was so bored that she took the half-hour it took to figure out how the remote worked. The first movie she came to was "Ella Enchanted." The title caught her curiosity so she started watching it.

"_I've been dreaming of the true love's kiss!" _ The song blared from the speakers. Belle immediately shut the television off and threw the remote across the room, not caring that something broke.

Then she went back to the bed and started reading another Agatha Christie book: _Cards on the Table_.

…

The next week was spent in what was the first road-trip either had taken. They zoomed along the highway, staring with awe and amusement at the truck stops. Rumpelstilskin decided that it would be fun to collect a new shot glass from each state.

Every hotel they stayed in was five-star. Even though Belle enjoyed the sites, by the time they reached Arizona, she was already growing tired of it. Rumpelstilskin became quieter and quieter as they continued. He also started spending every night researching. At one city he got the penthouse so that he could go out on the balcony, to stretch out his hands, and find nothing.

Belle would sometimes convince him to sleep, but he agreed only infrequently. Then he quit eating. Eventually, her appetite left too. The days seemed to slow down, and there were only so many books she could read, or television shows to watch.

But there was nothing.

Rumpelstilskin refused any query she would make, and his frustration was so palpable that she decided to stop asking. She found herself getting angry with him, which she always tried to repress. The last thing they needed at such a time was to have a lover's quarrel.

Then they reached Phoenix, and he started leaving for days at a time, only to come back to the room and pore over his notes, mutter to himself, and experiment. Purple clouds permeated the room as he added more strength to his efforts. But there was still no answer. With each session he would grow more exhausted and she more melancholy.

A month of this began to take its toll on Belle. She had wanted to travel, but not like this. She started having trouble sleeping, worrying, and staying up in an attempt to reassure him. She would speak of their hopes. What they would do when they returned to the castle. But she knew he never heard her. His mind was now always searching.

And still nothing.

"Maybe there's something I missed," Rumpelstilskin said.

Belle sat up. That was the first thing he had said that day. She was wearing her nightgown, though it was the afternoon. She had stopped dressing. What was the point if they never went out? She stayed in bed longer too, sleeping as much as she could and being grateful for the rare nights when he would join her, finally falling into a sleep that seemed to give him no rest.

"What did you say?" Belle asked.

"I must have missed something."

Belle knew that that there was nothing he had missed. His potions were always perfect for he had the most powerful magic in all worlds. And it was not enough.

Or maybe Rumpelstilskin had been wrong, and there was another Land Without Magic that Bae went to. Or he was dead. Or something else that she dared not say to him.

Each day was now spent in silence. Belle found herself looking at the clock willing for it to move faster, hoping that as each day passed he would realize that his efforts were futile.

Then the nightmares came back. She was in the asylum with nothing but the wall to watch, knowing that time would never move. The depression that came with survival under such circumstances also recurred. Sometimes she found it hard to distinguish between the dreams and reality.

Something had to change.

"Rumpelstilskin," Belle said after two months, and went to where he was sitting on the couch, his head grimacing in concentration. He looked up at her. "Maybe we should take a break," she suggested.

"A break?"

Yes," Belle replied. "Go back to Storybrooke for awhile. Clear our heads again."

Rumpelstilskin looked sharply at her. "You want to give up?"

"No. Recharge, if you will. Perhaps you may see something after some rest . . . Maybe I can help you."

He shook his head.

"Could you let me try?" Her lips trembled a little.

"Belle don't!"

"Don't what?"

"Don't cry." His voice was cold and brittle.

Belle blinked back the tears. "Very well." But then Rumpelstilskin surprised her by bursting into tears himself, great sobs of despair. She stayed rooted to the spot, terrified. He looked as he did the night magic came back to Storybrooke. This time, though, he was not facing losing her, but his son. Again. She saw the Beast coming over his visage, but she was not afraid of what he would do to her, but rather what he would do to himself. This time it was a real possibility that she would not be able to bring him back from that danger as she had before.

"Please," she was by his side, stroking his hair. "Let's go to Storybrooke. Just for awhile."

He said nothing, his head still in his hands.

"You're exhausted," tears leaked out of her eyes. "Please."

Finally he nodded laying his head in her lap, as he clutched her around her waist.

…

Back in Storybrooke, Rumpelstilskin returned to his room, pouring over even more notes. He came out every week or so, occasionally sleeping next to her, but Belle was mostly alone day and night. Often she was angry, but mostly she suffered a crippling boredom. Seconds. She started counting seconds. More and more she awoke thinking that she was back in the asylum.

But she couldn't get him to stop, not with pleas or tears. He insisted that he would find an answer. There was just something he had missed. Then she began weeping all day, with no relief. There was not even Dr. Hopper to talk to for those sessions had been cancelled long ago. Belle suspected now that Rumpelstilskin knew what was going wrong, as did she. But to speak of it would be more dangerous than trying to kiss him. Yet she had to find some way for him to give up before they both went mad.

But how could she ask a man to give up his child?

What other choice did she have?

And then a forbidden thought came to Belle. Unheard of in her character. . . wrong. She blocked it immediately. But as more days, hours, and seconds ticked by, the idea returned to her. As she struggled, each tick on the clock seemed to mock her. Why not? Why can't she do that for him?

These questions went over and over in her head for a week, until she gave in.

That night, Belle prepared for bed very carefully and for a brief, insane moment, had thought about wearing the special 'night-gown' that was part of Rumpelstilskin's joke so long ago. But she did not have the nerve. Instead, she put on her usual, high-necked nightdress.

He had promised to take a break that night. But he did not come to bed until around three in the morning.

"Why did you wait up?" he asked.

"I," Belle's mouth was full of sawdust. "I wanted to be awake when you came in."

Rumpelstilskin nodded, not seeming to hear her, and got into bed, briefly touched her face, and then turned on his side away from her. Belle took a deep breath and put her body next to his, her arms lower around him than before, but not too low. She began to sweat, terrified. This was not going to work. Determined for one more try, she steeled herself and tried again, moving a little.

"Belle," his low and steady voice broke the silence. "What are you doing?" All his muscles had turned to iron under her arms.

"Nothing," she whispered, and pulled away. She could not do it. Then his hand grabbed hers, keeping her by him.

Rumpelstilskin peered at her, and her head ducked.

"We never lie to each other," he reminded her.

"I." Perhaps the direct way was better. "I was thinking that True Love's Kiss was forbidden, but that maybe . . . maybe. . . something else was not." She said the last so quickly as to almost be incomprehensible.

He sat up abruptly, understanding. "Belle. No!" He shook his head, "Never . . ."

"But maybe, if we tried," Belle continued, a little desperate, "if true love could maybe, maybe help you, and since it would not be a kiss. . . "

"Belle, if one kiss is enough, what do you think _that_ would do?" he asked.

She was silent.

"Do you have any idea what you're talking about?" He asked almost gently.

She had to shake her head. Don't cry . . . don't cry . . .

"And even if not," Rumpelstilskin continued. "Didn't you think about what the consequences would be? That you could get pregnant?"

She looked down.

"You did." Full realization was coming upon him.

Belle tried to explain. "Perhaps, if, well, maybe another child would help you get over. . ."

"You want to replace my son?" his accused, his voice rising.

"Not replace," Belle insisted. "Just, maybe, move on . . ."

"Not until I find him!" He said through gritted teeth.

"Yes. We will find him. But maybe we could also . . . Maybe . . ." her mouth was drier.

"Why are you doing this?" He peered closely at her. "The Belle I know would never give herself up to be used in this way."

Belle did not know whether to continue arguing, or just revel in the fact that they were having a real conversation for the first time in months. She chose the former. "No, it's not something I would do," she agreed. "But it's also not me to spend days and days in solitude, allowing the man I love to slide into despair!" Her voice was rising too.

"I know, " Rumpelstilskin agreed. "But not this, Belle. Not this!"

She tried one more time, "Is it really giving away who I am? So out of my character? Since we'll get married one day anyways . . ."

Now he turned his head away.

"You are planning marry me?" Belle grabbed his face, forcing him to look at her.

But he did not answer.

Belle did not think it was possible for her spirits to drop more. She was wrong. Her head slowly lowered to the pillow, and she found herself going into a fetal position.

"I need to find my son," Rumpelstilskin said. He got up to go back to his study.

She grabbed his hand with as much strength as she could muster. "I just want you to be happy," she whispered.

"Oh, my poor Belle," he withdrew his hand. "I will never be happy."

"I know." She curled tighter, tears soaking her pillow. "I know."

He did not hear her for he was already gone.


	11. Chapter 10

Author Warning: Not the happiest of chapters

Chapter Ten.

That was the last time Rumpelstilskin came to Belle. Now he was always in his room. Once he had told her that in times past he had spent an entire year on a working binge. She had not believed him then. Now she did. He worked all day and night, only taking the occasional break to check on her and ask if there was anything she needed. Belle always said that she was fine. He would then touch her face before going back into his study. She knew that he still cared for her, but she could not muster up the energy to feel even a glimmer of the love they had.

She had tried her last, had even almost gone against her most cherished values. For him. And it was not enough. As long as he kept magic and power in his life, it never would be enough.

She was through.

It was over.

Again.

And yet she could not leave him.

She was not even sure that he would let her.

So Belle forced herself to continue for a month or so, until the melancholy became so acute it was palpable.

She dreamed now of the clock with its ticking seconds. Always ticking, she counted. Ticking, she counted.

Getting out of bed became her great effort of the day and the temptation to return and pull the covers over her head was always haunting her.

Then one night the dream changed. Dr. Hopper came to her. *Call me.*

After the third night of this dream, she began to wonder if there was more than her subconscious at work.

The fourth night it recurred, Belle was convinced. But she had no clue how to call him. She began to search the house from morning to night, gaining a little energy with her new purpose. When she found a yellow book and the number of the only psychiatrist in Storybrooke, she felt as though she had found the Holy Grail.

Hungrily she dialed the number, and Dr. Hopper answered.

For the next weeks she had phone sessions. They helped and gave her hope. Dr. Hopper had been right. There was something about talking things over with a person who is sworn to secrecy. When he asked, reluctantly, of how she would settle the bill, with a little of her old slyness, she directed him to put all expenses on Rumpelstilskin's account.

But even that relief was short lived. The time came when she asked Dr. Hopper to schedule another appointment, and, to her dismay, he said that he was closing down his practice. He and his friends were going to pay Jefferson to take them back to the Enchanted Forrest, so if she needed further help, she could call the hospital. Belle had given him her thanks, but the last thing she would do is call the hospital. She would never go there again.

But Dr. Hopper had planted a seed.

Go home. Leave this cursed place.

For another week she kept telling herself that she could not.

Yet one day the darkness came over her so strongly that she cried out.

Rumpelstilskin was by her in seconds, wiping her face with a washcloth. As he cooled her down, he asked again if there was anything she needed.

Belle shook her head, even though she knew there was something.

She must leave before this melancholy overtook her permanently.

She needed to go home.

8&8&8&

Once the decision was made, Belle felt a peace that she had not experienced in months. It was the right thing to do. Leave Rumpelstilskin here to indulge in his magic, maybe even find his son. Either way, it could not be with her anymore. She did not have the mental strength to live with his obsession.

She was going home.

Belle started getting out of bed in the morning, and dressing. Afterward, she would fix a proper breakfast and found it within her to knock on his door, offering to bring him some food.

He would say 'thank you,' and touch her hand as she brought him a tray.

Her heart always sank after that. How could she tell him she was leaving him? She had tried it once, and had seen the result. In his state now, there was no way of telling what he would do.

8&8&8&8&

The day Belle chose to tell Rumpelstilskin, she cooked up an elaborate tea and brought it into the library. That was where she was used to taking hers lately.

She walked to his door and knocked.

"Rumpelstilskin," Belle called. She swallowed, her throat dry. Counting to five to give herself courage, she continued. "Care to join me for tea?"

There was silence on the other side. Then after what seemed an eternity, he opened the door. "You want to have tea together?"

She shrugged. "It has been awhile." She looked up at him, and took his hand. "Please?"

"I can't say no to you, Belle," he reminded her, and, to her surprise, he kept her hand in his.

She felt a knot in her stomach, but forced herself to continue.

"It's here in the library." She led him by the hand and poured the hot liquid into his cup.

8&8&8&8&

"No."

"Please, let's talk through this."

"There's nothing to talk about," Rumpelstilskin told her. "We're staying in this world until I find Bae."

"I don't think . . ." Belle began.

"Think what?"

She would not say it. Not yet. Instead she tried to reason with him. "I know you have to find your son. I could not imagine leaving him behind if he were mine. I understand."

"You always have," he said and touched her face.

Belle took a deep breath, "I just thought that I would offer to have you come with me first, before I told you of my decision."

"What decision?" He snatched his hand back, his face leaning in to hers, not with love as he had done so often, but with searching eyes that seemed to darken as each second passed.

She had expected this, and so had rehearsed what to say.

"I want to go home," she said firmly. "And I am prepared to go without you."

"No," his voice growled, the Beast creeping back to his face. Belle knew that he was getting dangerously close to the edge. But she would not back down. Not this time.

"Home," she repeated.

And she met his stare head on.

"I am not releasing you," he said simply and sipped some more tea.

"Release me?" Belle shook her head. "There's nothing to release me from. I'm a free woman."

"That can be remedied," his voice was demonically low.

A small, unstable smile appeared on Belle's face, "What are you going to do?" she asked. "Lock me in the basement?"

And she held her head high.

"No," he replied. "No more dungeons."

She leaned in now, and reached for his hand, "Yes, no more of that. Let me go. You did it before."

Rumpelstilskin did not answer, but threw her hand away from him and smashed his fist on the table shattering the china.

Yet Belle refused to even flinch. He never could frighten her.

He knew it too, for he sat back stared at her for a long time. Suddenly he reached across the table and took her long hair in his hands. It was not a show of affection.

"What are you doing?" Belle asked softly, a hint of agitation in her tone.

He did not answer, but kept stroking the lock he had isolated.

"Rumpelstilskin, what are you doing?" she repeated, her voice seemed to ring in her ears.

He stayed eerily silent. But then quick as a cat striking at a mouse, he plucked a few hairs from her head, stood up, and stalked out of the room.

Belle followed him. "You did not answer me!" She called, slightly behind him. "What do you want with my hair?"

"What I want with anyone's hair," he answered.

Realization dawned on Belle, "Are you mad? " She ran after him as he sped up. "A spell? On me?"

Rumpelstilskin reached his study and tried to slam the door, but not before she dove inside.

"Have you really become such a sot that you would stoop to this?" she demanded.

Deciding to ignore her, he grabbed a vial and put her hair in.

"I told you that I would protect you," he said calmly as he worked. He grabbed something else and mixed it with her hair. "And you promised to stay with me forever," he reminded her.

"You let me out of that years ago," Belle retorted.

He raised his eyes to hers, "This will keep us together so it will never happen again. Just until I find my son. Then we'll go home and the spell will break."

"I've heard that before!" Belle shot back. "And I don't believe you anymore."

"Please, dear. I need to concentrate."

Belle paused a beat, then lunged at the desk. He easily held her back.

That was it.

She would say it.

Belle put her hands by her sides, making fists until her fingernails dug into the soft flesh. "Fine," she said equally calmly. "Put a curse on me, destroy me, us, everything all for the son who wants nothing to do with you!"

He kept his eyes fixed on the potion. "Nothing to do with me? Who is mad now?"

"Oh, you've known," she ignored his rhetorical question. "You've known as I have the moment you couldn't find him after we left Storybrooke. True Love has to be felt by both, does it not?" She felt an insane urge to giggle as the words poured from her. "It's not that Baelfire can't be found, or that there is something wrong with your spell. The problem is that he doesn't love you!"

"Quiet," he replied in a measured tone, but he squeezed the vial so tightly that it broke in his hand.

Belle stayed still, focused on him.

"I'm going." She turned and began to stalk from the room.

"I have more hair," he informed her as he grabbed another vial.

She spun back around. "By all the gods, Rumpelstilskin, if you don't step away from that desk and stop making the curse, it's at an end."

"Nothing will end," he growled, predatory, animal, and getting close to her. As dangerous as she'd ever seen him.

And she did not care.

"AN END!" Was her voice really that loud? Belle took a step forward, all her depression channeling into rage. She was moving to a place she never thought she would go. She felt wild, feral, free. Her voice continued to rise. "Over, Over, Over, Over, Over, OVER!" she shrieked the last. Her throat felt like sandpaper had been rubbed all over it.

Rumpelstilskin smashed something on his desk. Things clattered everywhere.

And she still did not care.

"Ended," she screamed. "I'll end it now!"

"You'll end nothing." His face was unrecognizable now. "Nothing," spittle flew from his lips.

She spat right back, "I am SICK OF THIS! None of it will be enough. There will be one reason to cast a curse, then another, and another, another, and another, and another." And then she was right in his face, "And I AM ENDING IT!"

She pivoted and barreled down the hallway, to the stairs. She slipped, fell and few steps, got up feeling him hot on her heels, and not caring. She reached the cabinet in the front room and tugged. The door was still locked. She smashed it open with her hand, glass flying everywhere. Then she had it in her hands.

"ENDING IT!" She threw the chipped cup with all her strength to the floor.

But Belle neither heard nor felt any shattering crash.

It had reappeared in the display case. He was using magic to put it back. She lunged for the cup again, and threw it, only to have it reappear again. She roared in frustration.

"You cannot break it." He said dangerously. "It's mine."

"Yours, yours, yours. Like me. Nothing but yours," she hissed. "AND IT'S NOTHING! NOTHING!" She leaned up to his lips. "Go ahead! Kiss me! Kiss me now, because nothing will happen. No curse broken, because there is no True Love here!" She pulled down the front of her shirt. "You can even have it all. Take me. Ravish me. Ruin me. Make all your imagined love to me. And nothing will happen because magic is your True Love! I'll leave you to kiss her night after night, night after night, and you can just drink her all in to keep your godsdamned power!"

Rumpelstilskin grabbed her. "Liar." He shook her. "Liar!"

"Coward!" Belle was at him then, weak little arms shaking him right back, as hard as she could. "Coward, Coward, Coward, COWARD!"

"Shut your mouth!"

"No! You shut your mouth!" Belle howled, and then she completely crossed over the edge of reason. She reached out blindly, took the first thing she felt, and threw it. Anything. At him, at the walls, glass shattering, drawing blood.

"You're not the only one who can play the insane, wronged freak! I can throw things too!" She then wildly looked around, and found something, tossing with all her might.

"I too can smash china, and rage, and hate when I don't get what I want!" Something crystal hit the wall and broke into pieces.

The wine stack then caught her eyes. "This poison in you." She pulled out a bottle, "POISON! POISON!" she smashed them on the floor, the walls. She knocked over the liquor cabinet, sticky spirits and shards of glass flew everywhere. "I hate it!" She was shrieking, blind, grabbing one bottle after another. "I'll take that poison right out of you!"

Smash. One bottle, two, three, four, five, six.

"'l hate it, hate it, hate it!" she screamed. Bottles kept shattering.

For a brief moment Belle saw Rumpelstilskin. He was frozen. She saw fear.

Good!

She was the Beast now, and she let it loose.

Smash. Was that cognac? Smash! Hendricks! Bottle after bottle. Bottle after bottle.

Rumpelstilskin was backing away from her as she stalked after him, smashing another bottle at his feet. She reached for more things to break, but they slipped through her hands. She knew with was left of her sanity that it was blood.

And Belle still did not care. "But I don't have magic, so I can't take it from you!" She slipped, dropped to the floor on all fours, and began tearing at the carpet.

Then she found one more bottle. "I would if I could," she took that last bottle and smashed it right next to her knees.

"Belle, stop!" Rumpelstilskin was somehow by her, restraining her hands behind her back. "You'll kill yourself."

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" she whispered.

And then all was black.


	12. Chapter 11

A.N. Sorry the last chapters were such downers. The story took me there kicking and screaming. While this chapter does not exactly start with what I would call an 'upper,' there will be a light at the end of the tunnel. Thank you again for all the kind comments.

NB This chapter is a rewrite and I made a mistake on the 'manage.' I'll work it out. I apologize about the potential errors on the updates.

Chapter 11

"Belle," a voice whispered. "Belle, please. . . " Belle heard the voice getting closer, inch by inch it was closer, cautious, hesitant. Afraid? "Belle, I'm going to stop the bleeding now." She felt magic close her wounds, heard the shattered bottles clear away.

Her head was still down, and she was shaking. She felt a hand touch her hair but she didn't even have the energy to swat it away. Then her hair was parted and she could feel the veil removed to reveal her face. Yet she did not move. She wanted to just stay. Stay.

"Please, Belle. Just look at me." Look, raise her eyes. No, it was nicer where she was, and she lay down on the floor. Yes, that was much better.

"Let me know that you hear me," the voice was trembling now. "Don't go away. Stay with me." She felt him touch her hand. He was now next to her, trying to smooth her hair. She shrunk away and curled up. She liked that position. It was nice. It was safe. She didn't feel anything.

But that voice would not go away. "A sign. Just give me a sign to let me know you're there. Can you do that for me?"

Could she? Would that make him leave her alone? Her eyes blinked. "Yes. That's good. Come, let me take you upstairs." Belle opened her eyes and saw Rumpelstilskin looking more afraid than she had ever seen him. His chin was trembling, his face collapsing in on itself. Then she shook so hard she couldn't, just couldn't. She closed up again.

"Please, Belle. Open your eyes again. Please . . . I'm sorry . . . so sorry . . . Oh gods Belle, please show me that you know I'm sorry!"

But that blessed darkness . . .

Had she fallen asleep?

Drip. Drip. Drip. There was dripping. Belle came awake. Somehow she was in her bed. Did she want to open her eyes? No, she'd rather keep them closed. But then he was speaking again. It hurt her ears. "I'm sorry, sorry. . . so sorry." She felt his hand on her hair, and it shook making her eyes open. He was sitting next to her bed. He must have found a chair. Was there a chair? As she focused, she could not see his face. His head was down, and there were tears dripping from his chin.

"Please…."he just kept whispering. "Please. . . "

The next time Belle opened her eyes it was because she heard another voice. "Belle, can you hear me?" Did she? Yes. "Belle, I need you to sit up. Can you do that?"

She shook her head. "Okay, that's all right. You don't have to. I just want to let you know that everything will be alright. Can you show me that you hear me?"

She nodded. She could nod for Dr. Hopper.

"That's good, Belle. I want you to know that there are people that care, and will be here for you no matter what. You're safe. There's a man here that loves you, and he wants you to wake up. Can you do that?"

She didn't move. "Ok. Rest for awhile then. Just rest. You're safe . . . do you understand . . . ?"

. . . from miles away she heard the doctor. "I think we need to take the next step. Hospitalization can be arranged and . . . "

"No! She won't go back there again!"

Belle almost smiled . . . he knew what she wanted . . . He knew. . . .

The next time she bothered to look was when a needle was put in her arm. "We have to keep her hydrated . . . If this doesn't work . . . you have to reconsider . . . ."

No . . . nothing to reconsider. She was staying here . . . so safe under the covers.

Her hands were bound! Was she taken away? Surely he would not . . . but then she felt some warmth. He was holding her hands . . . Her eyes opened just enough to see that he was in that chair, next to her. His head lay on the bed. Asleep, but holding her hands. He really shouldn't be doing that. He had his own bed. He would get a stiff neck . . . it was ridiculous . . . And he was in her space. She pulled her hands away.

That woke him up. "Belle?" His bloodshot eyes searched frantically for a sign.

"Yes," She rasped, surprised that she had answered. How long had it been since she had spoken?

He burst into tears.

"But you should be in bed," Belle murmured confused, "not weeping. . . don't bother here . .. why are you here?"

"Because I love you," he answered, gripping her hand again, his head next to hers, his tears falling on her face.

"No," Belle whispered. "You shouldn't be here . . . Go to bed, it's so late . . . I'm so tired . . ."

. . . and then she sat up. It was daytime, the sun was shining through the window, and she just sat up.

She heard a movement. Rumpelstilskin was sitting in his chair. He had such a look of hope. Was that all she had to do, sit up?

"It's morning," she remarked.

"Yes," he breathed in relief, but so cautious. "A beautiful day. Your flowers are blooming. I brought some for you." She followed where he gestured and saw an assortment of the most beautiful flowers she had ever seen.

She turned back to him. "If it's morning, then it's breakfast time. Tea."

"You want tea?" he asked.

"Is it Darjeeling?"

"Belle, it's anything you want."

And so she had a hot steaming cup of tea within minutes. Her hands were still shaking , so he had to help her.

"Can I get you something to eat?"

"No. Not hungry."

She saw the IV.

"We had to, Belle. You wouldn't eat and we were worried, so worried. . ."

"Yes." She nodded, and then she began to cry. "I'm just so tired . . ."

"I know." Tears formed in his eyes. "But you did well," he encouraged, wiping his eyes. "You had some tea . . . "

She lay down.

"You can rest now," he touched her head, caressing, soothing. "Rest and I'll call Dr. Hopper."

"Dr. Hopper?" Belle was confused. "But he left with Jefferson."

"He was going to," Rumpelstilskin explained, "but he decided to wait until you were better."

"Really?" Dr. Hopper did that for her? "That was very kind of him."

"Yes. He's a good man."

"A very good man. It will be nice to see him again . . ."

Dr. Hopper did come. He stayed with her and they talked. He told her how Rumpelstilskin had called him that night, nearly out of his mind with anxiety.

"Yes," Belle nodded. "I wanted to sleep. We'd had a terrible row."

The doctor stayed with her for an hour or two, and then told her that he was giving her some medicine that would help.

"If you say so." She lay down again. "You're a good doctor."

"Would you like to get out of bed, Belle? Maybe sit by the window?"

"Yes," she agreed. "I think that would be nice." So when Rumpelstilskin came back, she was sitting with sunshine bathing her, blankets about her. She was out of bed. He looked so relieved that she began to cry again, not really knowing why. He hushed her, smoothing and brushing her hair. It was comforting. He gently massaged her shoulders, her neck, her head. "Oh yes," Belle said. "That's nice."

"Good," he said. "Anything you want, Belle." He stayed with her day and night, helped walk her to the restroom, made certain she took her medication on time, tried to make her eat.

Finally she ate some soup.

Within a week, Belle was eating regularly, so the IV could be taken out. One day she got dressed. Rumpelstilskin carried her downstairs and supported her as they walked through the garden.

After another week, she was able to walk on her own, and even started making tea and breakfast. They talked to each other again. Talked about everything, except the most important topic. It took another week of looking after herself and gaining strength before she could talk about what had happened that night.

When she told him that she was ready, they were in the garden after dinner. At first, he looked away, gathering his thoughts? Then he turned to her.

"Belle, I am so . . ."

"I know you're sorry, Rumpelstilskin. I heard everything."

He shook his head, "But sorry can't make up for what I tried to do to you. I tried to control you with magic. I was in so deep, I almost did . . ." He swallowed. "You were right, Belle. Everything you said was true."

Tears slowly leaked from her eyes and trickled down her cheeks.

He looked down, "And you were right to put an end to us."

"Yes, it is ended." Belle stared straight ahead. "I want to leave now."

"Dr. Hopper agrees," he replied tonelessly. "A change of scenery. You can't heal here with all the memories. With me. I should have helped you more after you escaped from the hospital." Belle's tears started soaking her shirt. He wiped her face with his handkerchief.

"I'm sorry that I was so weak," she whispered.

Rumpelstilskin shook his head. "Not weak. Never that." He gave her another handkerchief, which she held to her eyes, trying to stop the flow. "You were trapped in one room for twenty-eight years." He stroked her back. "Of course you got depressed. Dr. Hopper says that depression in such circumstances is natural, even helpful. It trains the mind to survive, almost comforts one in such a situation. But then the brain has trouble adjusting when the threat is removed. And I was no help." He stared at his hands. "But that's past. Now you need to go away from me. I am dangerous, Belle," he admitted. "There is nothing to stop me, or my magic. I can't control it."

"I know," Belle agreed. "And I am sorry. I didn't know what to do."

"No, don't apologize! You haven't done anything wrong." He squeezed her hand. "Never be sorry for my faults."

Then they both fell silent. All was spoken.

Rumpelstilskin presently stood up. "It's getting late. You need your rest."

Belle went with him, and lay in bed, trying to sleep. But she could not relax, not with him staring out her window. His contrition was almost as hard for her to see than his madness. She sighed and turned over. He needed to go to bed, but Dr. Hopper said she could not be left alone. She flopped over again. He turned from the window.

"Belle?"

"I can't sleep." She laughed. "Ironic, isn't it? That's all I've done for months."

"The grass is always greener . . ." he started to reply in kind, but it somehow died on his lips.

Belle then got up on her knees, on the edge of the bed. "Sit with me," she invited softly, "on this last night. As it used to be."

Rumpelstilskin slowly walked to her and pulled up his chair. "We can't go back to the way it used to be."

She looked down at him. "You're right," she concurred. "I shouldn't have asked."

"Magic always comes with a price, Belle," he reminded her ruefully. "I just never thought that it would be you."

"The price," she repeated, then tears spilled over and streaked down her face. Again.

"No, no," Rumpelstilskin reached up and cupped her cheek, wiping them away. "Not for me, Belle. No more tears for me. I chose this. Always have. It is my curse, my burden. It should never have been yours."

But despite his entreaty, the tears kept falling. Rumpelstilskin dropped his head, letting out a slow breath. The decision was made. He reached up and pulled her forehead down to his. Belle put her hands on his shoulders, and even as she cried, she smiled, letting out a soft sound as they shared one last moment of intimacy. They breathed together for several minutes. One person, one soul, one heartbeat. . . .

"I love you, Belle," he whispered. Then, hands holding fast to both sides of her face, he lowered his head.

And he kissed her.

If there was a rush of air as the curse broke, neither knew it. Her arms wrapped around him as he kissed her and kissed her and kissed her until she was dizzy. Then somehow she had his head in her hands, and she was kissing him.

Again and again.

They kissed and they kissed and they kissed.


	13. Chapter 12

A.N. Well the fun's coming to an end. This is the last chapter of the story (with the exception of the Epilogue). Thanks for following and for all your kind comments.

Chapter 12

When Belle awoke she was laying partially on top of Rumpelstilskin. Her face was pressed straight into his chest with her arms and legs stretched out as though she were about to make snow angels. Except it was not winter. And she was in a bed.

"Belle?" Rumpelstilskin asked. She didn't move. "Belle, can you even breathe?"

She lifted her head, eyes still heavy with the moment between sleeping and waking.

"What?"

"I'll take that as a 'yes.'" He looked down at her. "Do you realize how much you flip and flop when you sleep?"

"How can I if I'm asleep?" she asked rhetorically as she crawled up, giving him a kiss and a smile that lit up her whole face.

Then she peered at him. He looked much the same, but his eyes were lightened in color, and the wary tension in his face was gone.

She touched his face. "It really is you!" And she kissed him.

Rumpelstilskin broke away first. "Belle?"

"Yes?" she murmured against his cheek.

"Could you have some mercy? My leg is killing me!"

"Oh," she moved off of him.

"Sorry to ruin the moment," he shifted. "There are some meds in my restroom, if you wouldn't mind?"

She swung her legs over the bed, and went to find the painkillers. Presently she returned with a glass of water.

He sat up. "Thank you, dearie."

Belle sat in his chair. As he swallowed, she asked. "When did you decide?"

"Decide what?"

"To kiss me!"

Rumpelstilskin grinned. "The first moment I saw you!"

"You know what I mean!" Then her eyes blinked, some tears sparkling, reminding him that he needed to tread carefully. Her recovery was only at a beginning.

He sat up and propped a pillow behind him, taking her hand. "Truth be told, I didn't completely decide until last night. That was when I realized there was only one thing I could do for you."

Belle looked down, but then he chucked her under the chin. "Just kidding! The real truth is I just couldn't take anymore how delicious you look in that high-necked, ankle length nightie!"

Belle gently smacked his hand away. "Villain!" Her nostrils flared and yet she couldn't help but laugh.

But then he reached over and pulled her back into bed with him, kissing the crown of her head, and said, "You know, Belle."

"Yes," she breathed in reply, turning up her head for another kiss. "And I love you, too." He stroked her hair. "I don't know why, but I do."

Rumpelstilskin smirked, "That's my Belle!"

She sat up then, serious. "But what of Baelfire?" she asked. "Surely you haven't given up on him?"

"No," Rumpelstilskin answered. "I will never stop looking for my son, and I won't leave this world until I do." He lifted her chin, "But you and I learned together that magic, curses, and power won't find him. If they could, he would be with us now."

Belle nodded and laid her head back on his chest as he continued. "The curse that brought us here, and the potion which brought magic back, were the most powerful spells ever cast."

"But perhaps that will change now. You said yourself that magic here is unpredictable. Maybe . . ."

"Belle," he shook his head. She fell silent. He sat up, bringing her with him. "Let's look to more pressing matters, sweetheart." He swung his legs over the bed. "Do you remember where the hell I put my cane?"

…

Belle got into the bathtub filled with rose scented bubbles. Rumpelstilskin sat just outside, with the door open.

"Are you certain this is still necessary?" Belle called.

"Doctor's orders, Belle!" Rumpelstilskin answered with mock regret. "You're not to be left alone." He sighed loudly, "We'll just have to suffer through this."

"Suffer, my . . ."

"Language! Were you watching HBO while we were traveling?"

"Maybe."

And so it went as they talked back and forth. Finally Belle got out and emerged in her enormous terrycloth robe, walking to his chair and pecking him on the lips. He sighed, "I haven't felt this content in centuries."

"Are you sure it's not just because you have a half-mad, near-naked woman kissing you?"

"I was talking of being freed from the curse and loved by my fair maiden," he told her drily, standing up quickly. "Give me a minute while I count backwards from one hundred!"

He walked away a few steps, and looked at her.

She held his gaze. "We're going to have separate bedrooms from now on, aren't we?"

Rumpelstilskin slowly nodded. " After . . . last night I don't think we can . . . Do you think we could stop ourselves from . . .?" He stopped as Belle blushed brighter than he had ever seen her.

"Let's speak no more of it," he concluded abruptly.

"Yes," she agreed in obvious relief.

…

They strolled hand in hand through the garden. It was more awkward now, with his limp and cane. Belle walked as slowly as he needed to. It was her turn to support him. The sunlight was a comfort to her as they got to their bench, sat down, and snuggled as before, now and then adding a kiss or two.

Against her intentions, Belle started to doze, exhausted from the emotions of the previous night as well as the efforts in the morning to bathe and dress. Despite the occasionally reprieve, she was still facing a long and difficult recovery. Rumpelstilskin placed her in a more comfortable position, her head in his lap as he sat stroking her hair, his eyes closed, and listened to her steady breathing.

She napped an hour or so.

When she awoke, Belle sat up and said hesitantly, "Rumpelstilskin . . ."

"You're still going," he said it for her.

Looking down at their entwined hands she whispered, "I just can't stay."

"I know, Belle." He wrapped his arms around her. A small hiccup came from her as she took a breath. "There is only one thing I want for you." He tipped her head up to look at him, and said firmly, "I want you to get well."

She pressed her lips to his, through tears she could not stop. "I will miss you. . ." she kissed him again, "miss you . . ."

"Oh, my Belle," tears were in his eyes too, but he did not let them fall. "Every moment."

"Yes," she sobbed, and he held her to him.

Finally he gently disengaged from her. "Let's have enough of that," he handed her his handkerchief. "We still have time. The arrangements will take weeks." He kissed her hand. "Let's make the most of it."

"Yes," she agreed and dried her eyes. She managed a small laugh. "That is one great benefit of your wardrobe. How many ladies are lucky enough to always have silk available to wipe their eyes?"

"You are one of a kind," Rumpelstilskin acknowledged. "Let's move on to a less dramatic topic." He reached into his pocket, pulled out a tiny box, and opened it for her to see. Inside was a dazzling sapphire. "I know that I do not have the right to ask. But if you want this, it's yours."

She stared at the ring, her mouth opened in surprise. Then she looked back at him, her eyes squinted, almost skeptical.

"I will marry you, Belle," he said, "when we meet again." He swallowed, "If you would do me the honor."

She mutely held out her hand, and he placed the ring on her finger.

He kissed her hand, then her lips.

Belle finally found her voice. "That was less dramatic? A proposal?" she shook her head.

"Compared to our normal fare," he shrugged, eliciting a small giggle from her. "But know, Belle, you don't have to be bound by this."

"Correct me if I'm wrong," Belle said slowly, a little taken aback. "But I thought the purpose of the ring was that I would be."

"It is," he conceded. "But I know that things change. It may be years before I see you again. Maybe never. I want you to know that you can be released from this if a time comes that you wish to move on."

"Since when do you make deals with an out?" Belle shook her head and whispered. "That's not how I deal." She sat up straight. "Even if we never meet again, I'm yours." She pointed, "I won't release YOU!"

…

Belle was fussing with his tie. "I'll never really understand why you are so insistent on getting properly dressed every day, even when you're staying at home." She smoothed his hair, then handed him his cane.

"When people stop keeping up appearances, even at home, then society will spiral inevitably into chaos."

"I haven't noticed the world ending because I don't always dress to the nines," Belle remarked. "How do you explain that, Professor?" She called behind her as she went across the room to make up his bed.

"Keeping up appearances," Belle muttered. "Do you think people will believe that we only kissed when we lived here together?"

"No," he shrugged, "and it would very impertinent for someone to ask."

He brushed his suit where he saw some fuzz. "We know. That's what's important." He put on his cufflinks. "Though I highly suspect when we get home, that no one will be too keen on bringing up things that occurred in Storybrooke." He allowed himself an indulgent smile. "What happened in Storybrooke, will stay in Storybrooke."

"But not everything, I hope," Belle said as she sat on the edge of his bed. Her sapphire ring sparkled against the black bedspread.

He limped over to her, "Remember what I told you. You don't have to wear it." He said quietly.

She lifted her chin. "After everything we've been through, who, pray tell, could convince me to take it off?"

"Maybe Mr. All Sensitive Pinocchio, with those baby-blue eyes, and being all 'I just want to be with my daddy?'"

Belle laughed, "Don't be cruel. Though such things do often work with women!"

"Exactly my point!" Rumpelstilskin retorted.

"But not me!" Belle declared. "Try again!"

"How about the oh- so- empathetic Dr. Hopper?"

"He's my psychiatrist. You know how unethical that would be," she rebuked him, "especially since he'll be a cricket!"

"Oh." Rumpelstilskin shook his head rapidly back and forth. "I think I just got traumatized for life."

"You started it!" Belle reminded him.

He grew serious. "You might want to have children."

"Oh yes, children. Lots and lots!" she smiled.

"Well, luckily you'll have a big castle to put them all in."

She put her hand on his knee. "You got it! Found me out. It's for the estate that I accepted you. Not to mention the money that comes with it!" She looked askance at him. "What are the chances that I'll meet another man who can spin gold?"

"Could spin," he corrected.

"And when you could, you made enough for a lifetime!" Belle began to swing her legs and looked up at him batting her eyes.

"Oh, stop being so damned cute!" Rumpelstilskin gave in, and kissed her for quite some time.

She sighed, and with her arms still around his neck asked, "And what's the chance that I'll find a man who can kiss as good as you?"

"Slim," he touched her nose. "You're right about that. Younger men are rubbish when it comes to kissing!"

"And you would know that how?" she giggled. It felt good to laugh again.

"Enough of that, you wicked woman!" He gave her a quick kiss, "I'm making breakfast today."

They moved slowly downstairs. As they entered the kitchen, he began cooking, and she went about setting the table.

"What do you think Charming will say?" Belle mused as she got out the silverware.

"Could you get an egg out for me?" he called. "What was that about Charming?"

"How will he react when you offer your expertise to him?" She got an egg out of the fridge.

"He'll be thrilled!" Rumpelstilskin turned toward her, and winked. "He's always had a crush on me."

Belle retaliated by throwing the egg right at him. He easily ducked out of the way. "Disgraceful! Attacking a cripple!"

"All's fair in love and Rumpelstilskin!" she said as she cleaned the mess away just as the doorbell rang. After signing for the package and stumbling in, she grunted, "Oh by the gods this is heavy."

"It is a ten- year supply!" He reminded her. "Just set it down. We'll let the Hatter take care of it." Belle put down the box and looked at it rather pensively. "What is it?" he asked.

"Sometimes I wish I didn't need to take the pills," she went to the table and sat down.

"I wish I didn't have to use a cane," he said quietly.

"Touche!" Belle muttered. No more self-pity for today. "You think 'Team Charming'," she made quotes with her fingers, "will welcome you with open arms?"

"Not open arms," Rumpelstilskin admitted. "But a deal can always be made when someone has something the other wants."

"Make a deal?" She wiggled her left hand at him, "you've gotten a little rusty on how to do it."

"Can't a man do something selfless for once in his life without being punished for it?"

Belle pretended to think about it. "No!"

"Fine! How about this? I'm still a lawyer and I can also give them something nobody else can." He leaned forward. "I know how to reach Regina, how she thinks, consumed as she is with power. Only someone who has experienced magic can truly know what it's like."

"That philosophy is used to help people recover, not destroy them," Belle said in a low voice.

"True. When one is not at war with them. What she did to you . . . ." Rumpelstilskin stopped and took a sip of tea. "Even so, Belle, I can never say no to you. Just say the word and I'll sit it out."

Blue eyes held brown.

Any words died on her lips.

They continued to eat breakfast.

…

"How many can I take?" Belle looked at the books with longing.

"Belle, this is your room," Rumpelstilskin reminded her. "Take all you want."

"You know that I can't take what I want. There's not enough room for them all!"

She walked to one section, closed her eyes, and took out the first book her hand touched_. Game of Thrones._

"Interesting," Rumpelstilskin noted. "Be sure to take notes. We'll need some tips if we all come home."

"Yes," Belle agreed. "There will be a power vacuum, won't there?"

He turned her toward him. "Utopia means 'no place.'"

"So whose side will we take?" she asked.

He kissed her forehead. "Ours."

She carried the book out and put it in her suitcase. Rumpelstilskin then handed her a manila folder with all the necessary papers. The castle and all his possessions were hers. "It will hold up in both Storybrooke and Enchanted Forrest Courts," he assured her. "No loopholes."

She hesitated with the documents in her hands, "You may want to change your mind. If Baelfire is found . . ."

"Yours," he said firmly.

The phone then interrupted Belle before she could object again.

"Ignore it," Rumpelstilskin told her.

"Everyone knows this is the last night," Belle said. "Nobody would call unless it was important." She began to press the answer button.

But he took it from her hand and tossed it over the banister. "No phone calls tonight."

…

They went into the garden, her garden, and sat on the bench. It was to be a full moon. They sat holding hands as they watched it rise.

The sky lit up and it seemed like a gift from the gods themselves. Belle laid her head on Rumpelstilskin's shoulder and slowly their breathing again came in sync. He tipped up her head and kissed her. And then they breathed again.

Tears were now flowing with her breathing and she felt his, too.

"You're going to get better, Belle," he told her. "And I'm going to find him."

"Yes. Oh yes."

As the night continued, it got too cold for them to stay out any longer. Rumpelstilskin took her hand and led her upstairs to her room. When he opened the door, to her astonishment, she saw roses from floor to ceiling. She looked at him, agape. "How?"

"A call to the local florist, and a very large tip." He smiled. She picked up a rose. "Can I take this one with me?"

"Of course. Belle, I can never say n-. . ".

But he could not finish his line. She had rushed over and knocked right into him, her arms around his neck, kissing him. His cane clattered to the floor as they fell onto the rose strewn bed, locked together, and not loosening their grip until the dawn.

…

Belle stood looking down at the hat. "It's so . . . small."

"Don't worry, we'll fit," Jefferson assured her with his low and rather disquieting monotone. "Sorry about the delay, Rumpelstilskin. Pretty Boy James kept calling, insisting that he needed to speak with you."

"I told him that there were to be no calls today. Can a man's head get any thicker?"

"Remember when he was David?" Jefferson reminded him.

"Too true," Rumpelstilskin muttered. "So what did you tell him?"

"To shut the hell up and let me do my work!"

"Good!"

Belle had taken her suitcase during this exchange and rolled it to Jefferson.

She looked at Rumpelstilskin who nodded in encouragement. There were no goodbyes here. Those had been exchanged in private.

Quickly, do it quickly. She took a deep breath, grabbed Jefferson's hand, and they jumped into the hat.

…

Jefferson was back within an hour.

"All's well?" Rumpelstilskin asked, not looking up, absorbed with tidying up his immaculate desk.

"Went like clockwork. The first thing your lady did was drop her suitcase and run to the kitchen for a broom, declaring the castle a disgrace."

"Yes, that sounds about right," he smiled to himself. "You didn't stay long," he commented.

"I left when the Cricket and Puppet came in with that old man. Seems they were going to have some sort of 'welcome- hi- how –are- you?' dinner."

"Sorry I missed it." Rumpelstilskin dropped the last paper clip into its place and sat down. He looked up at Jefferson. "Why are you still here? I settled with you."

"Not quite," Jefferson replied. "There's one thing that you didn't do for me."

"One thing?" Rumpelstilskin frowned. "Jefferson, what are you on about?"

"You had all the power in the worlds and chose not to use it against Regina. Why do you think I got Belle out of the asylum in the first place?"

"Out of the goodness of your heart?" Rumpelstilskin suggested.

"This is no joke!" The Hatter paused and then said with his dangerously quiet voice. "You disappointed me."

"What makes you say that?" Rumpelstilskin rose from his chair, picked up the magic hat, and handed it to Jefferson. "I cast the curse on Regina before I kissed Belle," he said.

Then Rumpelstilskin walked to the library, and shut the door.


	14. Epilogue 1

Epilogue Part 1

The Castle was filthy. Belle started cleaning immediately and only quit when August snatched the broom right out of her hands and forced her to sit down and enjoy the feast they had prepared.

"One thing I will say for Rumpelstilskin," Gepetto said. "He has a superb wine collection!"

"I've had the pleasure," Belle said as they toasted each other. To keep Belle from being alone, Gepetto and August had agreed to move into the East Wing of the castle, while Dr. Hopper stayed in the village to open up a new practice. Belle was surprised that they agreed, considering the past they had with Rumpelstilskin, but it soon became clear that they took a rather vengeful pleasure in availing themselves of the Beast's accommodations, especially the wine cellar.

Belle waved goodbye to Dr. Hopper from the front hallway as he flitted away. He had decided to keep the professional name for his practice, to Belle's relief. She could not imagine calling her psychiatrist Jiminy Cricket! After closing the door, she returned to the collection room—now curiously empty of artifacts, as though Rumpelstilskin had known that he would not be coming back when he answered Cinderella's summons. She banked the fire and waved goodnight to the father and son as they exited toward the East Wing, their arms full of wine bottles and glasses.

Belle then decided to retire herself and headed to the West Wing. It was amazing how familiar it all seemed, as though she had only just left. At the end of the hall was the large door that opened into Rumpelstilskin's bedroom. My goodness but that bed was huge! She could flip and flop to her heart's desire without worrying about falling off!

Yet all seemed haunted.

Well, there was nothing for it. "This may have been the castle of gloom and doom when you lived here, Mr. Reclusive. But not me!" Belle stated aloud, then giggled. Less than a day and she was already becoming eccentric!

8&8&8&

After a delightful breakfast, August took Belle into town. To her great surprise, the village was bubbling with activity, far more than when she had been there before. It was a marvelous mix of Storybrooke and The Enchanted Forest. Some were sporting modern clothes, others wearing local fashions. One man was in Enchanted garb, but smoking a Marlboro. Moreover, when she went into the tavern, she found some American favorites on the menu. She ordered some tea before asking the serving girl if she knew of anyone looking for work.

So the little village with its imposing castle became the place to be in the Enchanted Forest. Belle hired just about the entire town to clean the castle from top to bottom and close the rooms not in use. She also enlisted the services of the local seamstress to create a new wardrobe for her. She was a rather elderly lady, and had a daughter, Catrain, as her assistant. Belle and Catrain were close in age and soon became fast friends. Soon, Belle invited her to move into the south wing of the castle.

Within a month, Belle created a book club that met in her enormous library. Then another night, she and Catrain would walk into town for a knitting gathering. The young lady who hosted it spun her own yarn.

"Have you ever thought of starting a spinning business?" Belle asked.

Soon, with Belle's investment, the business thrived and began trading with other towns.

Belle even opened up the castle for the Harvest Festival. At first, some were not too keen on attending, being suspicious of 'Rumpelstilskin's Lady.'

"Do you see him anywhere? " Belle challenged.

That, and her new friends' endorsements, put to rest any fears. However, Belle had precautions of her own to make. Before she opened up the castle, she had August create a false wall in the dungeon. It was the perfect place to hide all the heaps of Rumpelstilskin's gold.

While everyone preferred living at home with their memories and families, there was a longing in the village for Storybrooke too; its medical facilities, for one. They also feared for the loved ones who stayed behind.

Belle continued her sessions with Dr. Hopper for the first year, but then became the patient of his apprentice. The medicine slowly helped her brain regain its chemical balance, and the darkness receded as well, yet never quite disappeared. Still, she had never been happier. She was her own woman, and for the first time in years, had friends. All of her interests, hopes, and dreams were coming true.

All except one.

Some nights as Belle lay curled up in bed reading a new book, she paused and thought of Rumpelstilskin. Occasionally, she allowed herself to cry, missing his quick wit, stories, and unmatchable companionship. She did not like to sleep in an empty bed. Some comfort was given her from the engagement ring sparkling on her finger. Often her activities required that she wear it on a chain around her neck, but it never left her. Every night she prayed for his safety.

One evening, as she sat pondering in the library, she got out some parchment and wrote a letter to her father.

In a month, she received a reply. It was bittersweet and cautious, but enough to give her hope of a reunion one day.

High up in the mountains was the ultimate retreat for this healing soul. Belle would often sit on the balcony in the morning with her cup of tea, and watch the Sun rise.

As the second year passed, she found herself quite content. 'Happily Ever After' only when you get married indeed!


	15. Epilogue 2

Epilogue Part Two

It was with some consternation that Belle was drawn out of sleep by a banging on the door. Then she shot out of bed in alarm. While Belle had become familiar with the villagers, nobody yet had the nerve to just walk up and knock on the door.

Grabbing her robe and slipping into her house shoes, she quietly moved down the stairs from the West Wing, standing outside the door which opened into the entrance hall.

As she waited there wondering what to do, she heard the great doors open.

Belle heard two men walking through the foyer and cursed herself for not owning a handgun. There was a man in town that had brought his entire gun collection to the Enchanted Forrest, leaving everything else behind. Now, here they were, two ladies living alone, and no protection.

So Belle stayed hidden, and then she heard in the entryway: "Holy crap!"

"Language!" another said sharply. A familiar voice.

"Oh, for crying out loud!" the other replied.

"Shush!" the other hissed, then called out, "Belle!"

"She won't hear you, Papa. This place needs a serious intercom system."

Belle then knew who they were.

She threw open the door, ran into the hallway, and saw Rumpelstilskin taking off his rather ugly cloak and hood.

He froze and for some reason she found that she couldn't move either.

Finally, he opened his mouth and said tentatively, "Hello?"

"Hello?" she repeated incredulously.

"Uh, hello . . . dearie?"

At that she ran forward, and jumped right into his arms, legs around his waist. They knocked back against the wall, and Belle pressed her lips to his. He had to drop her, considering his leg, but Belle didn't notice. Time completely stood still as they kissed each other. It must have been quite a while because the other man finally spoke up and said:

"Excuse me, but do you two need to get a room?"

Belle broke away to see a man of about forty, with brown hair and a great resemblance to Rumpelstilskin. "We have plenty of rooms," Belle told him happily. "A whole wing if you want!"

"Right . . ." the other said dryly. Then grinned, oh so familiar. "My gods, please tell me you have a sister!"

"Bae!" Rumpelstilskin thundered.

"Sorry."

"No, you're not!" Rumpelstilskin retorted.

Belle placed an arm on Rumpelstilkin's. "Can you please wait to kill your son until I've had a chance to meet him?" She smiled.

Rumpelstilskin made a gesture of submission. "Belle, this is my son, Baelfire. Baelfire, Belle."

Baelfire bowed slightly. "At your service."

Belle curtsied, and then turned to Rumpelstilskin, her face beaming. "You found him!"

"Rather, he found me," Rumpelstilskin replied.

"Sounds like we have a lot to talk about," Belle said. "Let's get out of this freezing hallway and sit by the fire."

…

They were all gathered around the fireplace in the Collection Room. Catrain brought them some tea and prudently left swiftly for her quarters.

"So you have a . . . Castlemate?" Bae asked.

"I suppose that's one way to put it," Belle said. "We have plenty of room to ourselves, and meet up in here for meals." She poured whiskey into their cups. "If this doesn't warm you up, nothing will!" Then she sat by Rumpelstilskin, taking his hand. Looking to both she said, "You, gentlemen, owe me a story!"

"Too true," Rumpelstilskin agreed. "It was the day you left."

"I was the 'jerk' who kept calling," Bae told Belle, "and Papa, I guess, was . . ."

"Throwing the phone over the banister?" Belle remembered.

"Exactly!" Rumpelstilskin answered.

"Bad timing on my part!" Bae commented.

Belle asked Bae. "But how did you know to come?"

"It was really something I can't explain. I had worked late—I'm an engineer—and was about to go to bed when I felt a jolt," Baelfire shrugged. "I can't describe it. I was so wired by it that I couldn't sleep. Then I received a text telling me that someone had been making multiple inquiries after me."

"But something previously had kept getting in the way of it being delivered," Rumpelstilskin added.

Belle smiled. "Interesting." She addressed Rumpelstilskin, "Would I be right if I said that the jolt Baelfire felt occurred after a certain kiss?" Her face turned red. "I mean, the moment your curse broke?"

Rumpelstilskin held out his hands with a slight bow, showing that her surmise was correct.

Baelfire continued the story. "When I received the notice, I knew exactly who it was. It was amazing, far from anything I could have imagined. I had given up on ever seeing Papa again. I had settled into this world, worked my way up, married well. It was quite a shock to hear from him after all this time. I took the first plane out to Maine and drove the rest of the way. The closer I got, the more I felt that I was coming home to the Enchanted Forest. I arrived at Granny's and the first thing I did was ask for the number of Rumpelstilskin. I called and called, with no luck. The girl, Red, suggested I should go see 'King James.' I went to James and told my story. So then he tried to call. No luck. We decided I would go back to Granny's and keep trying."

"And the next day," Rumpelstilskin resumed, "the boy was insolently ringing my doorbell over and over. I was in the library and quite frankly, completely ignoring the door. The last thing I wanted was company."

At that Belle gently squeezed his leg, and he put his hand on hers.

"Papa finally lost it and stomped to the door swinging it open and looking ready to kill. Scared the living sh. . ." Bae stopped with a look at Belle and corrected," Scared me. Luckily he recognized me before he smashed my head in. That was it!"

"Needless to say we had a lot of catching up to do," Rumpelstilskin said further. "Forgiveness to ask and give, stories to share."

"Very melodramatic. Would have made a great T.V. movie," Baelfire noted. "And then Papa said something bizarre. He asked me if I had ever known a young lady named Emma Swan."

"Emma? You knew her?" Belle asked.

"Uh, indeed, in both senses of the word," Bae said rather sheepishly.

Belle's jaw dropped.

"Bae!" Rumpelstilskin bellowed.

"Sorry."

Belle asked tentatively, "You met her before you were married? You must have been very young."

"Um. Not exactly before I was married. I am something of a first-class jerk, not only when it comes to stalking via telephone," Bae admitted.

"I see," Belle nodded, clearly at a loss what to say.

Bae rescued her by continuing, "Unfortunately it turned out my young girlfriend had a penchant for getting in trouble. When she got arrested, I dumped her. And good riddance, I thought."

Rumpelstilskin then took over. "I asked about how long ago the affair was."

"Let me guess," Belle said. "Ten years ago?"

"It didn't take much to do the math," Bae added.

"You didn't know that she was pregnant?" Belle said it as a statement.

"No!" Bae's face went a little dark. "I would never have let her have the child alone. I wasn't that much of a scoundrel."

"Once Bae told me this," Rumpelstilskin told Belle, "I informed him of the Q-Tip I had, and we immediately we went to the hospital for a DNA test."

"How did you know?" Belle asked Rumpelstilskin.

"I have a theory. My potion was True Love. The love of a father for his son. As I searched for Bae, I kept seeing Henry. So you see, there was more than one father and son that the potion reunited."

Belle shook her head, "All these coincidences seem almost too much."

"Not if you consider that the True Love potion had connected these families from the beginning," Rumpelstilskin contradicted. "I wrote the curse to find my son, but also to make Emma the savior. It was inevitable that they would find each other. And as we know, magic in this world is unpredictable."

Baelfire continued the story. "Once the DNA turned out to prove I was Henry's father, we headed straight to James' mansion and had one big, dysfunctional family reunion."

"What about your wife?" Belle wanted to know.

"Just after I dumped Emma, my wife found out about the affair and left me. Bad luck all around. The marriage ended and I spent the next decade doing pretty much what I wanted, and becoming filthy rich."

"So after the reunion, what happened?" Belle turned to Rumpelstilskin.

"We did as I had planned," Rumpelstilskin said. "Joined up with Pretty Boy. Bae had an investment in it with his son involved, and well, you know why I wanted to deal with Regina," Rumpelstilskin added quietly.

"And so we all banded together and kicked some . . ."

"Bae!" Rumpelstilskin smacked him on the head this time.

"Ow!" Bae complained. "Child abuse!"

"It can't be child abuse if you're forty!" Rumpelstilskin retorted.

"Sorry, Belle." Bae continued, "I got to know my son. Began making it all up to him, as much as a father can in such circumstances."

"So have you and Emma . . . reconciled?" Belle queried.

"Uh, no," Bae said slowly. "She tolerates me, and one day I may be able to forgive her for not telling me I had a son."

"I see," Belle's cheeks flushed. "I shouldn't have asked. A lot of this is personal."

Baelfire laughed. "Nothing's personal anymore. My ex-wife put it all on Twitter the day she found out." He held out his hands. "So here I am. I'll still go back and forth. Emma wants to stay in Storybrooke."

"Wait," Belle shook her head rapidly. "Say that again?"

"Storybrooke stayed once the Queen was defeated," Rumpelstilskin told her. "The boundaries of the town are up again, but there were many portals that opened up to here."

"Portals?" Belle asked, preparing her brain to wrap itself around another conundrum. "Where?"

"One from the library, the mine, and the graveyard," Bae replied.

"And one more that nobody knows about," Rumpelstilskin added mysteriously.

"Except us," Baelfire grinned.

"Which is why we had to arrive here the hard way," Rumpelstilskin explained. "To protect our portal. Now we can go back and forth with great ease. I can unlock it for all three of us."

"Where is it?" Belle was for certain intrigued.

"I'll show you later," Rumpelstilskin said vaguely.

Bae told Belle. "Many want to stay in Storybrooke, or want to come here. Many want both. And now we can choose!"

Belle asked Rumpelstilskin," You did this?"

"The curse was mine. I adapted it after magic came back to Storybrooke for the best possible scenario. For us." He kissed her hand.

"Wait," Belle stopped him, "you haven't told me yet how Regina was defeated."

"Oh the usual way," Bae broke back in. "Nice epic battle, melodrama, long speeches . . . I was right on the front lines. Papa was intelligence."

"When Charming got to Regina, he ran her right through," Rumpelstilskin said.

"But check this out! Her body disappeared. She pulled a Yoda!" Bae exclaimed.

"So she's dead?" Belle felt that she was holding her breath.

"Not dead," Bae said, looking to his father.

Rumpelstilskin turned to her. "I told you, Belle, that I had something special planned for her. It was triggered when she received the mortal wound."

"The story is that she was killed and we burned her body," Baelfire said.

"Only Bae and Charming were there, and I had told Bae before what they needed to say," Rumpelstilskin clarified.

"And being used to Papa's instructions, and knowing there was a good reason, I didn't question him. After what happened to Regina, I knew why he had told me to say what he wanted. Otherwise we may have had a Mussolini situation, which would have gotten very ugly. Papa explained later to me and James where she went."

Belle reminded Rumpelstilskin. "You said you would tell me when we were home."

Rumpelstilskin looked at her steadily, "Do you still want me to tell you?"

They had had this conversation so many times. Belle always promised herself that she would answer differently the next time. But now that the time had come, she didn't. "No."

Baelfire looked uncomfortable.

Rumpelstilskin spoke up. "So all of us in this room agree that it will never be spoken of again?"

Belle looked down and nodded.

Balefire said, "Belle has the last word, Papa."

"Very well," Rumpelstilskin sighed and declared: "It's over."


	16. Epilogue 3

A.N. Ok, here really, really is the end. Thank you to all.

Epilogue Part Three

Baelfire headed to the East Wing—August and Gepetto had left when Catrain moved in. "See you in about 36 hours," he cheerfully waved.

Rumpelstilskin turned to Belle. "To the West Wing?"

"I, uh, should tell you," Belle said as they stopped at the foot of the stairs. "I've been staying in your room."

"Nice!" Rumpelstilskin approved enthusiastically.

"It has the best bed," she shrugged.

"Even nicer!" She gave him a gentle smack. "Hey, let a man dream!" His face sobered. "For two years that's really all I had." He looked down at her, "I cannot tell you how gratified I am to know that you've been happy here."

Tears pricked Belle's eyes. "It was you who gave me the opportunity."

"But it was you who decided to make the best of it." Then he leaned into her and kissed her slowly. "You always have."

"Let's get you upstairs," Belle said, starting to wrap one arm around his shoulder.

"Actually Belle, I was thinking it may be easier for me to settle in a room on the ground floor." Rumpelstilskin told her. "With this leg, climbing all those stairs would not be the best situation."

Belle bit her lower lip thinking, and then concluded. "The servant's quarters, then? They are the only bedrooms on the ground floor."

"Lead the way!"

So they moved out into the foyer and through the hidden door in the wall that opened to the servant's rooms. Belle had stayed there after the first night in the dungeon. There were several cells lining both sides of the hallway. Belle chose the one closest to the foyer and they entered. This room had been closed for decades, but the steady cleaning from Belle's hired staff kept it from the dust and cobwebs that could have greeted them. Sheets covered the furniture, and Belle went about taking them off, with Rumpelstilskin helping when he could. But then he sat down in an armchair by the fireplace.

Belle moved over to him and began rubbing her hands up and down his legs, warming them. "Does it hurt?"

"Oh yes," he grimaced, "But if this is the reward I get . . . "

She chided "If you're going to be wicked about it, I can always stop!"

"Don't you dare!" He sighed. "It really does help." But he still took out his pill box and downed a few.

Belle smiled drily, "Aren't we the pill poppers."

"Without us all the pharmaceutical workers would be unemployed," Rumpelstilskin observed, and Belle lightly laughed.

After several minutes of massage, Belle went to light a fire. Soon the roaring flames heated the room as the bed was made up with fresh linen and a thick comforter. Her task done, she went back to him, and he drew her onto his lap. She laid her head on his shoulder sighing.

They stayed that way for several minutes until Rumpelstilskin spoke up," Belle?"

"Mmm."

"I forgot to ask you a very important question."

"And that is?" she smiled to herself.

"Is there a tailor in town?"

"Oh," Belle breathed, a little disappointed, but then decided to tease him back. "Yes, there is a tailor; even a spinning business! You have some competition."

"I'm not afraid of competition!"

"You should be!" Belle raised her head in pride, "I own it!"

At that Rumpelstilskin laughed heartily, "My Belle, my Belle . . ." he kissed her until she made him stop.

"What now?" he objected. "We were just getting started!" But his jovial face, turned into a slight frown when he saw the expression on Belle's face.

She looked down. "Why did Bae only come back to you when your curse was broken?"

"You haven't guessed?" Rumpelstilskin asked.

"I think I know," Belle said hesitantly. "Wasn't it that he wouldn't come back until you proved you truly loved him?" She paused, as though gathering the courage to continue, "And that the only way you could do that was to give up magic?"

"Yes," he answered matter-of-factly.

Belle's head was still lowered. "Had you figured that out after we returned from Phoenix?"

"Belle, what do you want to know?" Rumpelstilskin asked quietly.

She whispered, "Were you aware of this and is that why you kissed me?"

Rumpelstilskin let out a long sigh. "It was the one thing I didn't try," he admitted. Belle turned away, angry tears beginning. "I won't lie to you, Belle. It had occurred to me during those long months we searched for him, yet I didn't do it. I was too much of a coward to take the risk, or even acknowledge the possibility. Only you had the courage to place it before me, as you did on that terrible night."

Belle wiped her eyes and looked up to him as he took her head and pressed his forehead to hers, "Belle, I gave up my power for you and you only. Never doubt that."

"Ok . . . yes," she whispered and pulled him into another prolonged kiss. Finally she laid her head back on his shoulder, contented. "You really should rest. You must be exhausted!"

"I am," he agreed.

She started to help him up, but he stopped her, pulling up her left hand, looking significantly at the ring, and then back to her.

"I never took it off," Belle told him. His lips brushed hers. She grinned against his lips, "Just remember that I warned you: Children. Lots and lots!"

Rumpelstilskin laughed, touching her nose. "As many as you want!"

When Belle finally broke away from the kisses that followed, she ducked her head blushing.

"What is it?" he asked, trying to catch her eyes.

"I . . . " she paused.

"Yeeeessss?"

"I just can't imagine that, when we marry and . . ." She was too embarrassed to say it. "How could it be any better than this?" she spoke quickly.

"I can't explain how." Rumpelstilskin touched her face and looked right into her eyes. "But it will be."

8&8&8&8&

They had a small wedding. Baelfire was Belle's escort, while August and Catrain served as witnesses. Rumpelstilskin wore his usual fare, and Belle had a simple silk gown, with a veil of fine lace.

There was no reception or party, though August and Bae declared they were going to the tavern to get 'blind stinking drunk.' Because if someone didn't get drunk, there was doubt about the validity of the marriage, wasn't there?

"Yeah," Bae said in response to August's statement. "It was definitely one of Thomas Aquinas' speculations in the Summa Theologica."

"Who?" August asked.

"You really were wasted for twenty-eight years!" Bae snarked.

"And that's so wrong because . . ." August let the question hang.

Bae thought a moment, and then said, "O shut it, Puppet!"

"Frodo!"

"Whatever." Bae turned toward the tavern's inhabitants. "Drinks all around!"

8&8&8&8&8&

Belle held tightly to Rumpelstilskin. Both of them lay on their sides facing each other. Their breathing had now slowed and her head was tucked under his. Tears were leaking from her eyes, as he stroked her bare back. He kissed her head. "I love you," he whispered, comforting her.

She breathed and nodded. "I'm sorry," she wiped at her eyes. ". . . just a little . . . overwhelmed."

"Shhh. Think nothing of it."

He lifted her head and kissed her softly for a minute. Two. Then she lay against his shoulder and he stroked her hair until she fell asleep.

8&8&8&8&

After the wedding, Rumpelstilskin did achieve one of his first priorities. He had the tailor create a traditional wardrobe and always dressed for breakfast. He included a variation on his Storybrooke style, as did many in the Enchanted Forrest. For Belle though, nothing could part her from her flouncy dresses and high-necked nightdress.

Well, one person could. But Belle had stopped blushing over it after about a week of marriage.

"Lots of children." She touched her stomach and hoped.

8&8&8&8&8&

But the children Belle dreamed of never came to the castle. It was something of a torture for Rumpelstilskin to watch Belle's heart break every month, a cruel reminder of what was not possible. When she was ready, adoption was discussed, but that presented a problem of its own. Nobody in Storybrooke or the Enchanted Forrest would allow Rumpelstilskin or his wife to adopt a child. Despite everything, despite the fact that a one-time general pardon throughout all kingdoms had gone out for people's actions while under a curse, nobody would forget about what Rumpelstilskin had done. Even as popular as Belle was in the village, and the fact that the castle stayed open for all, Rumpelstilskin was never forgiven. He did not make appearances at any of Belle's events, and nobody ever asked for him. He had his son and was with his woman, wife, and lover, yet he would be a penitent his whole life.

But he would not allow Belle's suffering to continue. In the matter of a child for Belle, he would not surrender. There was a whole world outside of Storybrooke to which Baelfire could go at any time. Between Rumpelstilskin's legal expertise and wealth, and Bae's persistence they found a baby up for adoption who was freely given by both parents. Bae also took the extra precaution of obtaining written consent with the legal documents to ensure that the child could not be taken away in the future by a 'changed mind.' So it was that Belle had a baby girl named Gabrielle, their little angel.

8&8&8&8&8&

The christening was something of the Party of the Century. Henry came with Snow and James to see his father and meet his little aunt. Even August came with his new wife to party with Bae in celebration of his new sister. Belle moved throughout the different groups with Gabrielle in her arms, greeting and smiling, her hair in spirals and wearing a spectacular day dress. On her rounds she passed her stepson who had gathered some young boys from the village and was telling them something about him hunting down to the end of time any boy that dared to even look at his sister before she was forty. Belle was about to rebuke him, but then smiled. It was after all done out of love, and she was certain that Rumpelstilskin would concur wholeheartedly.

The only one who could pry Gabrielle from Belle was Rumpelstilskin, who generously handed out cigars and foot long golden threads, going about showing off his girl to all, including the very pregnant Snow White who, counting Emma, was about to have her fifth. Catrain, the godmother, had made both Belle's and Gabrielle's clothing for the occasion and spent a good deal of time taking photographs of the occasion.

As the evening continued, Bae and August separated off to a corner with 'Jim,' as Bae called him. They were fast friends from the war, so that when James teased Bae about having a mother ten years younger, Bae was safe to remind him that Snow was years younger than her daughter. The trio continued to smoke cigars and drink until the wives' lips were in a tight line. As the men stumbled to the servants' quarters, in no condition to leave the castle, August kept insisting, "It's ok, honey. It's not really a christening unless at least somebody gets blind, stinking. . ."

"Oh, shut up," Bae said and they both passed out in the foyer. The disgusted women left them there. Only James made it to a bed.

8&8&8&8&8&8&8&

Baelfire was very popular in the village. He would come frequently in the evenings, and it was evident to all that Rumpelstilskin's secret portal to Storybrooke was in the castle, though no one ever found it.

Some in Storybrooke, seeing what a marvelous father he was to Henry, felt that surely Baelfire and Emma would become romantically involved again. But they were as different as any two people could be. Their affair had been brief and selfish, and there was never any real warmth between them. Both however reached an agreement that they would set aside any ill feelings from the past and make being parents to Henry a first priority. It was the best that could be hoped for estranged parents. With time and grace, they even sat together at Henry's games and spent holidays with both sets of his grandparents. This arrangement was made easier when Bae took up residence in his father's old house, and the pawn shop became his own.

8&8&8&8&8&

Gabrielle grew up in the most beautiful of castles with two doting, but grounded parents. Being spoiled is a state of mind, and though Gabrielle had many material things, Belle ensured that she was always grateful for what she had. Moreover, from the moment she could walk, Belle took Gabrielle with her on charitable visits. A great deal of the year however was spent travelling as Rumpelstilskin insisted that Belle 'see the world' in the greatest luxury available, and to her heart's content. One very emotional trip was a return to her father's castle where forgiveness was given and Maurice met his granddaughter. The family also frequently went to Storybrooke to visit Henry, giving Gabrielle the opportunity to know her older nephew.

During all these events, the worlds still continued as they did for all with illness, death, pain, disappointments, estrangements, wars, and sometimes peace.

Happily Ever After, after all, has another name.

It is called 'life.'

The End

_Time was counted here. The cell of four blank walls was decorated only with a hard cement slate on which to sleep. Perhaps justice would have been satisfied after twenty-eight years of this incarceration, but twenty-eight years came and went with no change. Her brain continued to function as sharply as it had before she arrived at this alternate world. The curse had been carefully designed to ensure lucidity by stopping her consciousness from slipping into madness or a comforting depression._

_Only one visitor was allowed. A man named Jefferson, called the Mad Hatter by some, who would now and then arrive to open a slit in the door, and gaze briefly at the former Mayor of Storybrooke, before sliding it shut and returning home to his beloved daughter._


	17. Spinning Loose Threads 1

A.N. A series of one-shots set in the world of 'The Price.' I would invite you to read that fic first. Special thanks to AngelApple70x7 for giving me the idea. Rumbelle.

Spinning Loose Threads

_The worlds still continued as they did for all with illness, death, pain, disappointments, estrangements, wars, and sometimes peace. _

_Happily Ever After, after all, has another name._

_It is called 'life.'_

-Epilogue, 'The Price.'

'Unfinished Business'

"What the hell is going on?" she thundered.

Belle had just left her fiancé to fetch another glass, and then paused to day-dream about the wedding-just a week away. That was when she heard the shouting. She moved swiftly back to the collection room. Upon leaving, Rumpelstilskin, Baelfire, and August had been drinking and laughing like bffs.

The scene that faced her now was entirely different.

Baelfire's face was purple with rage, Rumpelstilskin was doing everything he could to hold his son back, and August was standing with his hands before him, palms out as though he was invisibly pushing Baelfire away from him.

"Not a good time to explain, dearie," Rumpelstilskin grunted, straining to keep his son at bay.

"Oh for crying out loud!' Belle exclaimed and stood between them, her maroon puffy dress swooshing around her. "There!" she declared triumphantly, "to fight you have to get through me. Now which one of you wants to fight a girl?"

That stopped the confrontation. For now.

"Good." Belle then demanded again, "What's going on?"

Bae began "Pinocchio here . . ."

"I prefer 'August.'"

"I don't give a rat's rear end what you prefer, douche!"

"Bae!" Rumpelstilskin roared.

Bae exhaled, "Sorry, Belle." He straightened his shirt. "Mr. Puppet, here. . . "

"I said ..." August growled.

"Oh let it go," Belle shot at him. "Bae will keep provoking you, and you'll get mad, and it will all go on because you are both acting like you're FIVE YEARS OLD!"

Both men almost looked ashamed. Belle shook her head and turned to Rumpelstilskin. "Don't look at me!" He defended himself, "I had nothing to do with this!"

Belle sighed, "Everyone sit." They obeyed, finding seats at the table.

"Now, let's try this for the third time." Belle smoothed out her dress. "What happened?"

All three looked at each other. Rumpelstilskin stepped in. "We were talking, and somebody," he looked daggers at August, "brought up the little deception he'd tried on me."

Belle looked to August, horror on her face. "What were you thinking?"

Bae chimed in before August could answer, "She wasn't, Belle. The girl can't hold her liquor."

August stood up outraged. "Sit!" Belle ordered like she was talking to her terrier.

"August," Rumpelstilskin continued, "brought up that he had tried to impersonate Bae when he came into Storybrooke on his donor-mobile."

"You see," Bae told Belle. "He had it coming."

Belle put her hand on Bae's arm. "Except that we, and by 'we,' I mean all kingdoms, had agreed that what happened in Storybrooke, stayed in Storybrooke."

"So you all just let everything go?" Bae asked incredulously.

"What do you think?" she told him. "Why else would your father be here instead of rotting in a prison?"

"Belle!"

Bae and August made a simultaneous "ooooooooo."

"Burn!" Bae muttered.

"Sweetheart," Rumpelstilskin murmured quietly, his pain showing.

Her breath caught as Belle realized what she'd said. All the Kingdoms had agreed to the pardons of those cursed, and Rumpelstilskin had gone through the ritual of Reconciliation. Now she had thrown his past crimes in his face. She felt profound remorse.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, reaching out and touching his arm. Rumpelstilskin looked away, but squeezed her hand, showing that he accepted her apology.

Belle sighed. They would be in couples' counseling forever.

She swallowed and moved on. "This does bring us to my point." She looked to Bae and August. "We all agreed to let what happened go. If we hadn't, everyone in the Enchanted Forrest, not just Rumpelstilskin, would most likely be in jail or have a date with the scaffold."

All at the table nodded soberly.

"Now that that's settled," Belle said, "I think . . ."

"You can hit me!" August told Bae.

"What?" Baelfire bolted upright.

"You're right, Bae. I was a douche," August said conciliatorily. "And, I would say that we are the exception to the 'let's- all forgive-and- forget' clause since we were never residents of Storybrooke."

"He does have a point," Rumpelstilskin noted. Now Belle looked at him with betrayal. "He does!" He exclaimed in defense.

Bae was watching the whole exchange, a little disturbed.

Belle still glared at Rumpelstilskin who tentatively offered, "Sorry?"

When was their next session?

"Obviously," Belle gave up, "this is something that I need testosterone to understand." She stood up with the inexplicable self-righteous disgust which women seem to have in their genes. "Go ahead; beat the living hell out of each other. I'm going to bed!" She pivoted and stalked away.

"Really?" Bae asked surprised. "She gave us permission?"

Rumpelstilskin thought of yelling at him, but then just shut his mouth. Instead, he caught eyes with Belle as she stopped at the door, looked back, and scowled. Maybe he should have joined her. Or maybe he should just let it happen. Giving in, he turned back to the younger men. "Let's just get this over with."

They all stood.

"So uh, how do we do this?" Bae asked, not looking too certain anymore.

"I stand here," August said. "And you punch me."

Bae's eyes turned to his father. "C'mon. I can't just hit him if he's not going to fight back!"

August looked down at Bae, "I would suggest at a 45 degree angle."

Bae's eyes narrowed. "Not likely, wouldn't work since I'm punching a tree!"

"I think you can deal with it," August encouraged. " Frodo!"

At that a roar came from Bae, and he tackled August.

Belle had seen enough. She turned her back and slammed the door, heading toward the West Wing.

"Hey!" She pivoted as she heard Rumpelstilskin call her. "It's over," he told her." I timed it at thirty seconds."

"You timed it?" Belle asked.

"Made it fair, let them get it out of their systems, without killing each other." He held out his hand. "Come and see," he invited. They cracked the door open in time to see Bae and August chugging a Jaeger Bomb.

"Ok. Ok." August said, "Here's a good one. A priest, a rabbi, and a Baptist minister go into a bar." He paused.

"And?" Bae prompted.

"And the bartender asks, 'What is this? Some kind of joke!'" And they laughed and laughed like they'd never heard anything funny ever before.

When they started snorting, Belle shut the door again, but found that she couldn't turn around. Rumpelstilskin had snuck behind her so that he could wrap his arms around her waist, pulling her back against him. "And you say that you want a half-dozen of those?" He spoke in her ear.

Finally, for the first time since the argument began, Belle laughed. And like the friends in the collection room, she could not stop.

Rumpelstilskin kissed her hair, "Has everyone gone mad and I missed the invitation?" Belle spun and shook her head. She almost stopped laughing, but then he started placing kisses all over her face, making her giggle with each one, until he shut her up by kissing her lips.

He pulled away, and grinned down at her. "Or were you hoping every other child of ours would be a girl?"

"Point made," Belle pecked him on the lips. "When our boys act like that, I'll just call you in to deal with it!" She then kissed him again, almost making him forget what he just may have promised.

"Wait," he stopped her, "that wasn't a deal was it?"

Belle giggled again, "No. I reserve the right to also smack them into next week if they behave like that—metaphorically speaking, of course." She gave him one more quick kiss, and started up the stairs.

"Whoa, where are you going?" Rumpelstilskin complained.

"To bed," Belle answered.

"But we've we haven't spent any time together tonight!"

Belle smiled slyly, "I'll make it up to you." She started running up the stairs so that he couldn't see her blush when she called, "in a week!"

As she hurried down the hall, still bright red, she heard him shout," Now **that** is a deal! And I'm holding you to it!"

Belle laughed, and did not retort.

For she had no intention of objecting to the terms.


	18. Gone Forever and Never Coming Back

A.N.: This may be a good time to mention that I consider my stories appropriate for ages 16 and up, and I always recommend Parental Guidance. In this story, the characters experience a traumatizing event implied in 'The Price.'

_The worlds still continued as they did for all with illness, death, pain, disappointments, estrangements, wars, and sometimes peace._

_Happily Ever After, after all, has another name._

_It is called 'life.'_

-Epilogue, 'The Price.'

Four months after 'Unfinished Business. . .'

Rumpelstilskin had had enough. He went to the bedroom he and Belle shared in the old servant's quarters, limped straight to the curtains, and threw them open. From there he moved to the bed, sat on the edge, and gently shook his wife's shoulder.

"No . . . go away," Belle moaned, and turned over.

"Belle, it's time to get up!" Rumpelstilskin insisted. "Time to eat!"

"I'll skip breakfast today," she mumbled flopping back again.

"It's not breakfast, love, it's lunch!"

Belle raised her head an inch. "Really?" she frowned.

"Come on," he gently raised her, and felt her forehead. "You're not ill are you?"

She smiled at him like a Cheshire cat, "I've never felt better!"

Rumpelstilskin cleared his throat. "Well, uh . . ." he gave her a crooked grin, "as flattered as I am, and as much as I appreciate the ego boost, I still think you should get up!

"Fine," Belle sat up and allowed him to pull her to her feet, causing her to sway. He steadied her and peered into her face, "Are you sure you're well?"

Belle nodded, "Really, Rumpelstilskin, I'm just . . . " She took a step forward, and fainted.

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"Belle," he said, getting no response. "Belle!" he repeated louder. She opened her eyes. Rumpelstilskin's face relaxed in relief, "Don't you ever do that again!" he ordered as he placed a wet washcloth to her forehead.

"It's not as though I planned it," Belle groaned. "I'm fine, just feel a little . . ." and then she swayed again. She exhaled until it passed.

Rumpelstilskin was truly worried now. "Lie down," he told her as he went to get a drink of water. He helped her sip and said "I'm going to get the doctor."

"Whatever for?" Belle asked, turning on her side.

"Because you are ... What are you smiling about?" Rumpelstilskin demanded.

She beamed at him. "Why do you think?"

He shook his head. "I haven't a clue."

"This isn't the first morning I've been ill," Belle remarked, and she sat up with something of an effort as another wave of nausea washed over her. Then she hugged him. "Haven't you noticed?" She spoke into his ear. "Noticed I've not been having . . ." She stumbled over the words. "Been late having . . . ."

Rumpelstilskin was completely lost now. "Having what?"

Belle grunted, sounding frustrated. Rumpelstilskin understood the sentiment, but how in all the worlds was he supposed to know what she was on about if she spoke in code? Couldn't she just say it? Belle helped by putting both hands on his shoulders and whispering, "I think I'm in a delicate condition." Her face shone like the Sun.

"A delicate condition?" He repeated, still confused.

"Dammit, I think I'm pregnant!"

Then he understood and looked sharply at her. "Really?"

"I said I think," Belle clarified as she lay back down, blowing out a puff of air, this time in exasperation. "I'm not a doctor. But when have you ever known me to be ill like this?'

"Never," he answered, somewhat in shock.

She laughed, "Remember, I warned you. Lots and lots of children!" Rumpelstilskin hesitantly smiled back, gradually letting it sink in. But then, seeing her joy, he broke into a full smile.

Yet a sobering thought came to him. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves." He touched her face. "I don't want you to be disappointed."

Belle nodded.

"I'm meeting Bae and Henry tonight for dinner," he told her. "Afterwards I'll get one of those tests women in Storybrooke always seem to be taking."

She laughed and hugged him again, kissing him on the cheek. "Thank you."

"Now, rest! I'll get you something to eat."

It wasn't until later, when Rumpelstilskin got to Storybrooke, that he fully realized for what he had volunteered.

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After waving goodbye to Bae and Henry, Rumpelstilskin stopped by the drug-store.

Casually he sauntered from aisle to aisle and bought a . . . wrench? Sure. Duct tape. Why not? Then finally he looked toward the part of the store to which he had never gone before. The area seemed to say 'let no man be found here.'

Rumpelstilskin entered the aisle as wary as a man expecting to be ambushed by a dragon.

Then he saw her.

Ruby.

Or Red.

Or whatever the hell she called herself now.

Damn!

Damn! Damn! Damn! Damn! Damn!

Deciding he could not stop now, Rumpelstilskin limped along as if he was just 'passing through.' No such luck. Ruby turned to him with a basket filled with, oh dear gods, whatever those . . . things were. The waitress looked surprised to see her former landlord. Then she grinned. "There's a two- for- one sale. Better take advantage. A woman can never have too many of these!" She held up a box, enjoying the look that must be on his face.

This was the downside to giving up his power. Impertinent little girls like Ruby were no longer afraid of him.

"So who's the lucky lady?" Ruby asked slyly. "It must be true love if you're shopping for her here!"

Rumpelstilskin counted to ten. "Miss Ruby, Red, whichever name you go by, my purchases are none of your concern."

He moved past her amused face, took a few steps, and then found them. Looking around he saw Ruby on tippy toes, trying to see what he was buying. But when she saw the expression on his face, she abruptly turned, and headed quickly to the cash register. He may no longer be her landlord, but he was still filthy rich, another form of power. It seemed the girl had figured that out.

Once Ruby was gone, he grabbed a few tests and made a beeline for the checkout. The next time a 'feminine errand' was required, he would pay someone else whatever it took to go in his place.

To Rumpelstilskin's relief, the dwarf didn't seem to care what he was ringing up, so he left with confidence, but got into his car as fast as he could.

Driving by Game of Thorns, he pulled over on impulse. Luckily, the store was under new ownership, Maurice having moved back to his castle in the Enchanted Forest. When returning to his car a few minutes later, he had a dozen roses, just in case.

Breaking several speed limits, Rumpelstilskin was soon parked in the garage of his old house, now belonging to Baelfire. He spoke briefly with his son, who gave his father two thumbs up and an approving nod when he saw the roses. Rumpelstilskin ignored him. He'd give him hell later. Slowly he made his way down to the basement, pressed his thumb to the pad, and stepped into his castle's dungeon. He stopped by their room to hide the flowers, before going to where Belle was waiting for him in the Collection Room, absent-mindedly spinning the wheel.

She flitted over to him as he entered and handed the bag to her. She looked inside."You needed a wrench and duct-tape?" she asked, an eyebrow raised.

"Can never have too many," Rumpelstilskin replied without making eye-contact. He took her by the hand and led her to the bedroom. Belle went into their converted, modern lavatory while he waited. She came out a minute later and they both looked. Slowly the sign came up.

It was positive.

Belle threw her arms around him, bursting into tears.

Rumpelstilskin hugged her back and wiped the tears away. "Hey! This is supposed to be a joyful moment. "

"I know, it is, I am," Belle said between sobs. "It just seems like this is really the beginning, our family, after everything, and . . ." She buried her head in his shoulder.

"I know," he said, getting a little emotional too. "I'm so happy for you," he said as he wrapped his arms around her, then tenderly pressed his lips to hers.

8&8&8&8&

Later, as Belle was dozing, Rumpelstilskin got up, put on his Armani pajamas, and then brought out the roses. He knelt as best he could so that he was level with Belle, and she instinctively opened her eyes. After taking one look, she burst into tears again. Hormones, Rumpelstilskin reminded himself. He suspected he would be seeing a lot more of the same over the next nine months. Belle blew her nose with a tissue and took the flowers from him, inhaling their perfume. Her eyes sparkled and she looked so cute that he just had to kiss her.

Belle started to get up, but shivered a little in her shift, so Rumpelstilskin insisted on placing the roses into a vase himself, and then wrapped her up in the duvet.

When he climbed back into bed, he brought her head down to his shoulder.

"Rumpelstilskin?" Belle asked rather solemnly.

"Yes?" He kissed the top of her head.

"You are pleased aren't you?"

"Of course," he frowned. "Why would you ask that?"

She bit her lower lip, "It's just that you said how happy you are for me." She looked up into his face. "You are glad to have a baby too, aren't you?"

"Oh yes," he kissed her to emphasize the point, a little unnerved because he was not entirely sure he meant it. "But I know how much you wanted this," he said, this time with confidence. "How happy this makes you." She tightened her arms around him. "But to use your term," he continued, shifting the topic, "there's a reason some call it a 'delicate condition.' You need lots of rest. No housework, no stress."

"Is that really necessary?" Belle looked skeptical.

"Dearie," he took her hand, "think of how you felt this morning."

"Oh," Belle said. "I see your point." She lay back down again, raising herself on an elbow. "How should we tell people?" she smiled.

Rumpelstilskin paused, choosing his words carefully, "What do you say, after a few months, we have a special dinner with Baelfire and Henry? We'll tell them first."

"Sounds perfect!"

Belle did not remark about why they were going to wait.

"And," he sternly pointed at her, "make an appointment with the doctor as soon as possible!"

She agreed, "Anything to keep the baby healthy!"

"And you, too," Rumpelstilskin reminded her. He could not help being cautious, needing to tell himself that the Storybrooke hospital was nearby, and childbirth was not as dangerous as it used to be. He was also poignantly aware of how much he had botched the raising of his own son.

Belle chucked him under the chin when he admitted this. "But you mellowed out so much after you finally kissed me. Best kiss ever!"

"How would you know?'" Rumpelstilskin objected wickedly. "I'm the only man you've kissed!"

Belle looked down.

Rumpelstilskin felt his heart stop a moment. No, it couldn't be. "I am, aren't I?"

Belle looked in the other direction, chewing on her lower lip.

"Oh my gods, please tell me you didn't kiss Gaston!"

Belle was silent.

"Oh gods, Belle!"

"We were engaged!" Belle burst out.

"That son of a ..."

Belle stopped him, "I don't get in a huff because you've kissed others. Why is it so different if I did?"

Rumpelstilskin opened his mouth. Shut it. Then he could not help himself. "But why? Of all people...?"

"What part of fiance don't you understand?"

Rumpelstilskin felt himself turning red.

Belle sighed, "I won't get a chance at a whole night's sleep will I? Unless..."

"Unless what?" Rumpelstilskin grumbled.

"Unless I do this." She leaned closer to him, and gave him her 'kitten' look. "Yes, I kissed Gaston," she conceded, "but I can't believe that he or any man can kiss better than you!"

Then she leaned up, and began a reenactment of that night to which he enthusiastically responded.

Gaston who?

After a few minutes, he stopped her, and said soberly, "No chances, Belle." He touched his forehead to hers, their old 'kiss.' "A few weeks before your due date, we are moving into Baelfire's."

She kissed him quickly, "If it will give you peace," another kiss. "Now I need to sleep!."

8&8&8&8&

Rumpelstilskin spent a good deal of the days spinning cloth for Belle. She was planning to make the baby clothes herself, as well as transform the room next to theirs into a nursery. Over dinner they bantered a great deal about names and joked about which instrument the child would play.

And through those first happy weeks, Rumpelstilskin made certain that she was treated 'delicately.'

Part 2

Belle continued to take things easy, and followed all directions from the doctor. Yet as she got into the sixth week of her pregnancy, she began to complain of back pain, which spread to her shoulders. Intimacy ceased because it caused her too much discomfort. Rumpelstilskin did what he could to relieve her, but to no avail. Then one terrible night, as Belle tearfully fell into a fitful sleep, Rumpelstilskin determined to take her to the emergency room, and keep her there until he knew both mother and child were safe.

That long night he lay awake next to her, holding her as she tossed and turned, knowing that there was something different about Belle's experiences. His first wife had been pregnant a few times-only Baelfire came to term- but Rumpelstilskin never recalled the symptoms Belle had. The morning could not come fast enough.

At dawn, Belle began shivering. Rumpelstilskin touched her forehead, and she was burning up. Forcing himself to stay calm, he gently shook her awake.

"Sweetheart," he gently said.

Her eyes opened.

"Belle, I need you to get up," he compelled his voice to be steady. It could be, after all, nothing to worry about. Maybe she just had a bit of the flu.

"What time is it?" Belle asked, her teeth chattering.

"It's early. You have a fever. I'd feel better if we went to the emergency room."

"You really think that's necessary?" Belle asked as she burrowed further under the covers.

He kissed her forehead. "Humor me."

Helping her sit up, Rumpelstilskin slipped a loose dress over her head. As she stepped from the bed, she held her side.

"What is it?"

"Pain. It's worse," Belle's voice shook.

"We'll be at the hospital soon," he reassured her.

Gently, but with resolution, Rumpelstilskin urged Belle to the portal. Within a few minutes, they entered Baelfire's house.

"Belle, Papa," Bae greeted them, a cup of coffee in his hand. "What's going on?"

"Just passing through," Rumpelstilskin commented. "Belle has some errands to run."

"This early?"

Rumpelstilskin's expression must have conveyed something that stopped any more inquiries.

"Ah, well," Bae turned to Belle. "When you're done, let's do lunch."

"Sound's nice," Belle said, and then winced. Rumpelstilskin touched her arm.

"I think I need to sit, just for a minute." she told him.

"Only a moment," Rumpelstilskin directed. She nodded, and for the first time her visage showed fear.

Rumpelstilskin settled her on the couch and then walked over to his son. "What's up, Papa?" Bae asked in a low voice. He had seen the exchange.

"Belle's been a little under the weather," Rumpelstilskin answered, then said under his breath, "Would you mind getting dressed and driving us to the hospital?"

"Sure," Bae said. "Just give me a second." Bae moved upstairs quickly.

Rumpelstilskin returned to Belle, now holding her abdomen, bent over. "It's getting worse," she whispered. Her face was draining of color.

He sat with her a minute or two, rubbing her back and saying soft words of comfort, when Bae came back, dressed.

"Bae," Rumpelstilskin's pitch raised, "can you help me get her in the car?"

"Sure, Pops," Bae said and put his arm around his step-mother's shoulders. They moved a few steps, and then she cried out, grasping her abdomen. "Yeah, let's move this party on," Bae said. "Appendicitis?" he asked his father.

Rumpelstilskin did not answer, but hurried them along.

"I'll take appendicitis," Belle answered Bae gasping.

They took a few steps more before she bowled over in agony.

Rumpelstilskin was by her in seconds. "Belle?" She was even paler than before and grabbed onto his shoulders, looking into his eyes as her face dissolved into terror. "No," she grasped him tighter, crying "No, gods, no!" Rumpelstilskin lowered her to a nearby couch, all as in slow motion, fear as he'd never experienced surging through him, but still conveying a shocking, outward calm.

Bae's voice cut through Rumpelstilskin's single-minded focus. "Papa, is Belle pregnant?"

"Yes," Rumpelstilskin replied tightly, now stroking his wife's hair.

And then he saw too.

"Call 911," his voice was low and shaken.

As Bae dialed, Rumpelstilskin grabbed Belle's hand. "It's ok, dearie, relax. Look at me."

She did, her eyes wide, but losing lucidity. "The baby," she implored. "Save the baby."

"Shhh," he soothed. "Just relax." His eyes continued to hold hers.

"The baby, promise ...," her voice was barely a whisper.

"Of course, I promise we'll . . . do what we can. Stay with me, you hear? Look at me!" But

her eyes had rolled back into her head as she lost consciousness.

The ambulance arrived in minutes –luckily Storybrooke was a very small town. Bae was desperately trying to stop the bleeding, as Rumpelstilskin kept trying to bring Belle back to sensibility.

Then the EMT's were there and took over. Rumpelstilskin held onto Belle's hand, until Bae pulled him away.

"Let her go, Papa."

Rumpelstilskin released his hand.

"Move out!" the EMT ordered, and they rushed Belle out the door.

"I'll never let her go," Rumpelstilskin whispered, looking after her.

Bae grabbed his keys. "I'll bring the car around."

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Rumpelstilskin burst into the Emergency Room, and saw no sign of any activity. He went straight to the receptionist and demanded to know where his wife was.

"Came in with the EMTs?" the receptionist asked.

"Yes," Rumpelstilskin snapped. "I asked which room is she in!"

Before the receptionist could reply, Rumpelstilskin heard someone call his name. Dr. Whale. Wasn't there more than one doctor in this town?

"Where is my wife?" he demanded.

Dr. Whale answered cautiously, "They sent me out to brief you."

"That's not what I asked!" Rumpelstilskin growled, vaguely aware of Baelfire joining him.

"She was rushed straight into surgery," Dr. Whale said with maddeningly calm.

"Surgery?" Rumpelstilskin asked, not realizing that no sound came from him.

The doctor held out his hands in apology, "That's all I know."

"The baby," Rumpelstilskin said even though he knew the answer. "She asked me to save the baby."

Sympathy was in Dr. Whales' eyes, and Bae put his hand on his father's shoulder.

"I don't know for certain," Dr. Whale began, "but it does appear likely that your wife has . . ."

"I know," Rumpelstilskin interrupted. "But I promised her."

Dr. Whale nodded, and then tentatively continued, "The goal now is to stop the bleeding and do what we can to save her . . ."

Rumpelstilskin didn't hear what else was said. He appeared to turn to stone for a split second, then rushed to the doctor and grabbed his lapels. "Do what you can to save what?" Rumpelstilskin roared.

"Papa!" Bae pulled him from the doctor. "C'mon, chill."

Rumpelstilskin exhaled, and repeated. "Do what you can to what?"

"To save her life."

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Baelfire went to get his father a drink.

Rumpelstilskin was sitting in the waiting room, his head in his hands rocking back and forth. Bae sat next to him.

"I killed her, Bae, killed her," he repeated.

What could Bae say to that? "I got you something to drink."

Rumpelstilskin didn't seem to hear him. His fists were clenched and he began spitting out every curse word in every language he knew, over and over.

"C'mon, Papa." Bae coaxed. "Take a drink."

Rumpelstilskin finally looked at him. Steadily. "What'd you put into it, son?"

Bae opened his mouth, "In it? I don't know what you're talking about."

Rumpelstilskin stared.

"Valium," Bae admitted. Rumpelstilskin thought about rejecting it. Then changed his mind and downed it in one gulp.

After a minute, he spoke. "You know, Bae, I was afraid, because of the way things were, about . . . well, every time your mother was pregnant, there was always a chance, a danger. But things are supposed to be different now . . . Belle even said . . . it's supposed to be safe!"

"It is, Papa," Bae assured him. "You weren't wrong to think that. Danger really is rare."

Rumpelstilskin shook his head. "But it happened. And I've lost her."

"You don't know that," Bae said softly.

"Lost her," he repeated.

Time cruelly slowed down. In what seemed hours another doctor entered. One of those dwarfs.

"Rumpelstilskin?"

"You know who I am," Rumpelstilskin muttered, looking at the floor.

"Yes, I do." Doc affirmed, and began. "When your wife entered, she was bleeding." He paused, "She was bleeding out."

Rumpelstilskin felt all his senses leave him. "She's dead, isn't she?"

Doc shook his head, "No. She's in the recovery room."

A noise came from Rumpelstilskin; small, gasping sobs were escaping unbidden in relief.

"You made the right decision when you came to Storybrooke," Doc continued. "Those minutes you gained saved her life."

Rumpelstilskin was still shaking. Bae put his hand on his father's shoulder again and asked the doctor, "What happened?"

Doc answered carefully. "It was an ectopic pregnancy, and the fallopian tube burst. The baby was lost then . . . or before. It was inevitable." Doc swallowed. "However, she kept bleeding and the other tube had also been damaged." He paused before finishing with compassion. "There was only one way to save her life."

Rumpelstilskin's eyes closed. "Oh gods," he moaned.

"But Belle's alright?" Bae asked.

Doc nodded. "She'll make a full recovery. But . . ."

"I'm aware of what this means!" Rumpelstilskin spat.

"If you like, we can tell her when she wakes up," Doc suggested.

"No. Let me," Rumpelstilskin replied, and exhaled a raspy breath.

After Doc left them, Bae saw his father staring at his feet.

"Papa?"

Rumpelstilskin's voice was void of emotion, "Do you have any idea what this is going to do to Belle?"

Bae could not bring himself to answer.

He knew.

8&8&8&8&

Rumpelstilskin sat by Belle's hospital bed, her limp hand in his. He had procured a private room where she had awoken from the anesthesia, but was still in the throes of it wearing off.

Bae had been sent to bring some flowers to lighten up the room, but Rumpelstilskin could not ask for roses. Slowly, Belle climbed back into full consciousness, but when she tried to sit up, pain kept her down.

"You need to lay still, dearie," Rumpelstilskin told her, gently caressing her forehead.

She opened her mouth to speak, but her lips were dry and cracked. He gave her a few ice chips, and then sat down on the edge of the bed, looking down at her. Taking her hand, he kissed it. Finally, Belle got her voice back, but it was raspy from the tube that had been put down her trachea.

"Is everything all right?" she croaked.

Rumpelstilskin nodded, smoothing her hair. "You're going to be fine, love," he said.

"But the baby?" she insisted, weakly. "I meant the baby."

Rumpelstilskin looked down, but before he could find the words, his silence had already told her.

She curled up a little, but the pain from the incision was too much. She laid her head on her pillow, her eyes blank.

After several minutes, she whispered, "Why the stitches, the surgery?'

There was only one way to tell her. "The baby had attached in the fallopian tube. It burst and the tube was removed."

Belle made a soft sound, a whimper softer than a kitten's cry..

"You were going to die, Belle," Rumpelstilskin pleaded with her. "And the baby was already gone."

She stared at the wall, but nodded, a small tear finally forming.

"We'll have another," she muttered, and looked up at him when he did not answer. "Rumpelstilskin?"

"Belle, I'm sorry." He held her hand tighter. "The bleeding would not stop and they had to . . ." but then she tucked her face into her chin, completely in the fetal position. "So sorry, love," he murmured. Heaves started within Belle, large and silent. He clutched her hand harder. And touched her.

But she was gone for now, allowing the pain to wash her away, curled up completely, any hint of tears gone. So Rumpelstilskin softly cried for her.

"It's alright, Belle. I'll be here with you." He kissed her hand. "I'll be here."

8&8&8&8&

It was seven months before Belle was ready to perform the ritual. It was a very simple ceremony to bid the lost baby farewell.

Afterwards, Belle and Rumpelstilskin were prudently left alone. Belle walked toward the small headstone. It simply read 'Ange.' She sat down and one-by-one placed twelve roses on the grave. Slowly, lying down on her side, she stared at the flowers and wept.

Rumpelstilskin stood by, tears flowing freely, not sure what he could do to give her comfort. Time seemed to stand still, and neither knew how long it was before Belle wiped her eyes and stood up, taking one step at a time to her husband. She clasped his hand as they both stared at what they had lost.

It seemed that a storm may be coming. As the wind swept through the graveyard, Belle's hair fell loose, blowing about her.

"All magic comes with a price," Rumpelstilskin muttered. "Belle, will you ever forgive me?"

"No, no," she rapidly shook her head, "there is nothing to forgive. I was the price." She gestured to the tomb, "Not this little angel."

"How . . ." Rumpelstilskin had trouble getting out the words. "How can you know that?"

"The gods... " Belle began.

He interrupted bitterly, "You still believe in them, after all this?"

"Yes," her head snapped to his, defiantly. "Why should I stop because something bad has happened to us?" Her eyes were crackling fire. "Maybe I'll find another reason for giving them up, but not this." The bright flame then dissipated. She despondently took out her handkerchief. "If I could explain it I would." She looked at him. "But I know it had nothing to do with you." She let out a shuddering breath. "The price was paid."

Tears were still falling unchecked down Rumpelstilskin's cheeks. "I just wish," he choked out, "wish- for Heaven's sake, I wish-for once, that you could have the happiness you deserve. That you would be left in peace."

"But I have peace," Belle insisted, tears trailing down her cheeks as well. "Maybe not unfettered happiness, but who really gets that?"

At her words, he turned and grabbed her in his arms, sobs tearing from both of them.

Into the silence that followed, Belle laid her head on his shoulder. "Remember what you told me before I left you at Storybrooke?" she asked. "You said Utopia…"

". . . means 'No Place.'" Rumpelstilskin finished.

They fell silent again until the storm made them head for the carriage.

But there was no reprieve. When they got home, Rumpelstilskin lit a fire in their room. Without bothering to undress, Belle lay down on the bed and resumed grieving.

Rumpelstilskin went to her, and she grabbed his hand, nearly crushing it. He pulled her up then, as he had so often before, taking her head between his hands, but there was to be no consolation. Both fell to the bed, great sobs quaking through them, harder than ever before, so much that they could not breathe, and so long that time was completely lost to them. Wrapped tightly together, it was difficult to tell where one began and the other ended.

Here they continued to cry out in protest for their lost child and the children they would never have.

8&8&8&8

The next morning, they began to resume their lives, yet both were always haunted by the burden. With great pain, Belle continued her slow recovery. It seemed cruel that the melancholy which demonically clung to her, had returned with another merciless blow, enveloping her as she lost that to which she had always dreamed. But she was on the mend.

A slow, yet steady recovery.

Still, the loss was never forgotten.

And every year, until her death, Belle went to the cemetery to leave twelve roses on her angel's tiny grave.


	19. Chapter 19

Author Warning: Fluff!

'Spinning Loose Threads'

_The worlds still continued as they did for all with illness, death, pain, disappointments, estrangements, wars, and sometimes peace. _

_Happily Ever After, after all, has another name._

_It is called 'life.'_

-Epilogue, 'The Price.'

'Changing Rooms'

One year after 'Gone Forever and Never Coming Back . . . .'

Baelfire removed the cover with a flourish. Underneath was a bright, shiny Segway, aka 'mall cop scooter.'

"And now," Baelfire exclaimed with triumph, "you can move into that awesome master bedroom!"

Rumpelstilskin looked at the Segway for a very uncomfortable minute. Belle swore she heard crickets chirping. She braced herself for what was to come, wondering if she should urge Bae to run for his life while there was still time.

"Are you insane?" Rumpelstilskin finally exploded at record decibels. Bae froze. "I am NOT going to go about on that thing looking like a *&^%$# eejit!"

"Papa!" Bae shook himself out of his deer-in-the headlights look, and gestured wildly. "Belle!"

But Belle hadn't so much as blinked an eye. Rumpelstilskin did not often drop the F-bomb in front of her, but he was not as protective of her 'sacrosanct' ears as he led Bae to believe. She already knew many 'strong' words from growing up in a royal court, while the rest she had learned from Rumpelstilskin himself. And HBO.

"It's alright, Bae," Belle laughed, then immediately bit her lip when Rumpelstilskin's eyes shot daggers at her, and Bae looked hurt. "Please, do go on," she said stoically.

"Ok," Bae ran his hands through his hair. "Look, Papa. It's not like people will be seeing you riding in it. And think! The castle is huge! With this you can actually enjoy what you own. Watch!" Bae jumped on the Segway and then sped over to the West Wing stairs. There he drove onto a platform to which the Segway was automatically locked into place. Bae then pushed a button, demonstrating how the platform went along a track up the stairs. Then he unlocked it at the top, also with a button, and started speeding back and forth along the hallway.

Belle watched in awe. "If you won't use it, dear, I will!"

"How the hell will we charge it?" Rumpelstilskin asked her. "We don't have electricity!"

As Bae came back down, he shouted, "I've got about ten batteries. They're charging in my basement. It's a piece of cake to trade them out." He jumped off. "I'll put one of these tracks on all the stairs. Then there's no place that's off limits to you. C'mon Papa!"

Rumpelstilskin looked like he was about to drop another F-bomb when Belle placed a hand on Bae's arm, "Let me take care of this." She leaned in confidentially, "Give me an hour."

Bae shrugged, "If anyone can convince him, it's you." He kissed her on the cheek, and then moved back to the Collection Room.

When he was gone, Belle turned towards her husband, whose eyes were narrowed in suspicion. "Whatever you have planned . . ." he began.

"Just hear me out," Belle requested. He gave a rather impatient bow, her signal to continue. "Since our wedding day, we've had to sleep in a small room, with a tiny lavatory, all the while missing out on the magnificent West Wing because it was too difficult for you to get there!"

"And your point, dearie?" Rumpelstilskin asked, raising an eyebrow. At seeing her eyes narrow into slits, he continued more cautiously. "I'm happy with what we have," he muttered.

Belle pressed her lips together. "I'll make a deal."

"A deal?" Rumpelstilskin smiled indulgently.

"A deal," Belle repeated, not amused by his condescension. "I will go up to your old bedroom—obviously arriving ahead of you since you're too stubborn to use the Segway. And when you arrive, I will do my best to convince you that your old master bedroom is better than the one we have now. If I'm successful, we move into the West Wing."

"And if you don't convince me?" he asked.

"We stay where we are."

"Deal!" Rumpelstilskin agreed.

Belle grinned as she shook his hand, lifting her skirts as she hurried up the stairs. By the time she reached the master bedroom, Rumpelstilskin had only just reached the landing. Still, there were only minutes. Running into the room, she closed the door and lit a fire. It wouldn't be roaring when he came in, but it was the ambiance for which she was looking. Then she appraised the master bed. It was about three times the size of their current one, complete with a black silk duvet, and red sheets. She blushed only a little as she swiftly prepared.

When Rumpelstilskin finally arrived and opened the door, Belle was in the middle of the bed, dressed only in her shift—very modest really-kneeling to the side as a lady should.

Still, his jaw dropped.

"This, darling," Belle proclaimed, "is where we could sleep every night!" Then she put on the 'cute- as- a -kitten- look' he liked so much.

8&8&8&8&

Over an hour later, Belle entered the Collection Room. Bae was reading by the fire, and looked up as she demurely sat down and settled her skirts. A few minutes later, Rumpelstilskin came zooming in on the Segway. He parked by the door, using his cane to walk to the table.

"Looks like Belle convinced you," Bae commented, putting down his book.

Rumpelstilskin shrugged, "She showed me that the pros definitely outweigh the cons."

Bae looked to Belle gratefully. "Thank you."

Belle nodded. "All's well that ends well," she commented, but she didn't meet her step-son's eyes, and blushed.

"Ohhh-kay!" Bae's genial visage was slowly transforming into something like horror. "Glad you changed his mind." He reached into his pocket. "Oh. Gotta go! Text from Henry," he explained. "It's time to head back, I, uh, promised Emma I would pick him up after soccer practice."

"Better get going then!" Rumpelstilskin told him, sitting on his chair at the head of the table. His son made a hasty farewell.

Belle stood up and moved behind her husband, wrapping her arms around him. "We don't get cell reception in the Enchanted Forest," she murmured in his ear.

Rumpelstilskin turned around in his chair. "Please tell me you won't be so merciless as to bring that up the next time he's here?"

"What's the fuss? We are married!" Belle insisted. "And I never said he had to stick around." She looked at her husband saucily.

"Belle!"

"Of course I won't!" She laughed and kissed him solidly on the lips. "Let's start moving our things."

He did not need to be told twice.


End file.
